


Metamorphoses

by Tezla



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece & Rome, Ancient Greek gods shamelessly equated with the Norse pantheon, Apparently I forget that people have feelings, Brief mention of historically-appropriate animal sacrifice in a religious setting, Cameos by Clint Barton and Phil Coulson (blink and you miss them), Culturally-appropriate sexual and social conduct, F/F, F/M, I suppose this counts as mechanical porn, Kid Loki, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mention of previous Steve Rogers/Howard Stark, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Or architecture porn - is that a thing?, Sculptor Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tezla/pseuds/Tezla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Ancient Greece, Tony Stark attempts to create something fantastic, but first he needs to find that famous missing sculptor, Steve Rogers. He’s going to need a little help from his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metamorphoses

**Author's Note:**

> For the purposes of this story, the Greek pantheon should be considered analogous to the Norse pantheon, and the Frost Giants equivalent to the Persians. No specific background knowledge is required to understand this story. There’s a small info dump in the first two pages, but if you can make it past that, the story proceeds much like any other fic. I have provided two pages of historical context in the End Notes, should anyone want it. (This might be useful if you’re unsure on the subject of ancient Greek homosexuality.)

The flames fizzled and spat at the thin metal tube, licking at its surface and turning it black. Tony carefully twisted the metal in the flames. His hard work was rewarded only with a quiet ‘crack’ as a fault in the metal split its delicate structure apart.

“Gods damn it all to Hades!” Tony muttered. He flung down the pincers he’d been using to hold the tube, and the tube itself bounced out of their grip, and into the fire.

He wiped an oily hand across his forehead, and turned towards the door of his workshop, where he kept a jug of water.

Bruce stood smiling in the doorway, the light from the forge twinkling in his eyes.

“Been there long?” Tony asked.

Bruce shrugged. “Pepper sent me to get you. Ampelios is back, and it looks like he won’t leave until he gets an answer.”

“Actually kind of busy,” said Tony.

Bruce sighed. “You’d better come. She’s been putting him off for three days. Her capacity for hospitality is running out. If you get my drift.”

“Right, yeah, right,” said Tony. “Okay, I’ll be with you in five.” He sighed deeply and up-ended the jug of water over his head.

Ampelios smiled weakly at Tony as he entered the vestibule, and brushed crumbs from his ample belly. An empty wine-cup by his side and an empty platter showed that Pepper had been extremely hospitable. Tony scratched his head, and realised he had metal shavings in his hair.

“Couldn’t you just speak to my secretary about this, Ampelios?” asked Tony.

Ampelios’ smile vanished, and he glanced balefully at Tony down the length of his bulbous red nose. He huffed. “You know that’s impossible,” he said. “You still need to make the decision before we arrange the contract.” He paused. “And in any case, your man appears to have gone missing.”

Tony ignored the implied slight that he wasn’t able to control his staff. “Bruce is almost as busy as I am,” he said.

“That, I find easy to believe,” Ampelios said.

They stared at each other again for a few moments. “So,” Ampelios continued. “What’s it to be? Walls or temples?”

It was a tough call. As one of the wealthiest men in Athens, Tony was expected to provide money towards the rebuilding and restoration of a city recently ransacked by the Persians. He could either help rebuild the temples on the Acropolis, which could also be seen as self-aggrandisement, or he could put money into the building of the Long Walls – a new, defensive structure which linked Athens with the docks at Piraeus. While on the surface of it putting money into the walls seemed like a better bet, it did also carry the underlying message that Athens was susceptible to future attacks, and that current measures weren’t good enough. It associated Tony’s name with war, and he didn’t want that, either. Which got Tony thinking about the temples again. Which… had been a project of his father’s. And he didn’t want his name to be associated with his father’s.

This kind of explained why Tony had been taking his time making his mind up about this.

Tony sighed, and finally made up his mind. “The temples. Just… let me decide where the money goes.”

Ampelios nodded his head in approval. “Very good. I’ll set up a meeting with your secretary, and we can draft a contract.”

“Fine, fine,” said Tony. It was all going to be rather more complicated than that, Tony knew. Bruce would draw up the contract, sure, but not until Pepper had examined the fine details of the project.

Ampelios turned and left, and Tony sunk onto the couch. “Pepper! Is there any more of that wine?” he yelled.

Tony lived in the shadow of his father. Howard Stark’s personality and career had been forged in an Athens ruled over by Tyrants, with power and money held close by the ruling families, and Howard’s reputation still loomed large in peoples’ minds. While some wished Tony were more like his father, such a thing was not practicable, even if it had been desirable. There was full democracy in Athens now. The structure of society and the way people connected with their tribes, towns, and the city had been changed by Cleisthenes fifty years ago, and still people were struggling to come to terms with what that really meant.

What it meant to Tony right here and now was that he was about to sink a ton of money into restoring a bunch of dusty old statues up on the Acropolis, and even more money into re-building a temple so that people could stand outside of it to make a sacrifice or two every now or then.

Tony’s passions lay in another direction, and that direction made him extremely unpopular. He had a passion for natural philosophy: this new ‘science’, a yearning to understand the nature of the universe. He loved the idea that there were atoms – indivisible things that no one could see. He loved the idea that these things were fundamentally indestructible and unchangeable – and yet, and yet, they could be combined and collided together in different ways, to make different things.

From a more practical standpoint, he was obsessed with automata: machines that could move under their own power. In his childhood, his nurse had regaled him with stories of Hephaestus, who created mighty automata in his workshop (though what these were and how they worked changed with each telling of the story). There was also the story of Talos, who had made an artificial man from bronze, and Daedalus, who made statues talk. Of his many projects, Tony was currently in love with the idea of building a vast metal man, powered by hydraulics, pneumatics and mechanics.

It would be awesome.

If only he could make the pieces small enough.

If only he could generate enough power from steam, without the machine blowing up.

Unfortunately, this was seen by many people as a waste of time and money, when he could be helping his community in more practical ways. Some even muttered that he was in danger of incurring the wrath of the gods. Some things, they argued, were not for the minds of men.

Maybe putting money into restoring the temples was a good idea after all.

“Pepper? Is there any wine?” Tony shouted again.

“I think she’s gone out,” said Bruce, walking into the room.

“Been somewhere nice?” asked Tony.

Bruce humoured him. “I was only gone for five minutes. I was just checking something. I found some new specimens today, up towards Hymettos. There’s some plants coming into flower that look really promising for my work.”

“Sure,” said Tony, an answer that told Bruce that Tony wasn’t really listening. Bruce was in his own way as obsessed with natural philosophy as Tony. Tony just didn’t get all that business with plants.

Tony ran a hand through his hair. “I know it’s a bore, but I’m going to need you to put down your research and work with Pepper on a contract. I’ve agreed to sink money into the Acropolis project.”

“Oh, okay,” said Bruce. “It shouldn’t take too long. I’ve got some boilerplate I can use.”

“Tomorrow?”

Bruce sighed. “Really? I was planning on being out all day.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Oh well, it can’t be helped. I guess the sooner I get started the sooner we get it finished.”

Drawn by Tony’s yelling for wine, Tony’s mute servant Iarphis glided silently into the room, replaced the empty wine jug with a full one, filled two beakers and left. Bruce passed one of the beakers to Tony, and took the other one for himself.

“Thanks,” said Tony. Bruce sunk down on the couch next to him. “Anyone ever tell you you smell of herbs?”

“You’re soaking wet,” said Bruce.

Tony took one look at Bruce’s expression, shook the front of his robe and grinned.

***

The following morning, Bruce once again found Tony in his workshop.

“I’m beginning to think that you like standing in doorways,” said Tony, looking up from his work. Bruce moved so that he was no longer lounging against the door frame.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need you to come and look at this,” said Bruce.

“At what?”

“At the available options for your Acropolis project. There’s something I think would fit the bill nicely: you’d be able to take on the entire project, instead of… uh… having to be nice to members of a committee. It’s going to cost more than you originally suggested, though, which is why I think it’d be a good idea if you saw the site and discussed the plans before I hand the contract over to Ampelios.”

“Well, you know how much I love committees.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows and waited.

“Okay,” said Tony, after a pause. “Some air would be good, anyway.” He grinned. “Here, have a look at this.”

He held up a small piece of metal that he’d been working on at his desk.

“Is this it? Did you do it?” asked Bruce.

Tony smiled again, obviously pleased with himself, and threw the object at Bruce. Bruce caught it, and held it up to his eyes.

“It’s so light, so delicate.”

Tony winked. “And strong. You’re not going to find anything else like it.”

Bruce looked through the tiny metal tube. “It’s perfect. Did you test it?”

“Not yet,” said Tony. I need to make a load more, and that beauty took me all night. Anyway, Acropolis?”

Bruce smiled.

It was a lovely spring day and they took their time, stopping to talk to people along the way. When they finally entered a deserted street, Bruce reached out a hand and touched Tony on the shoulder.

“They’re never going to stop asking about Pepper,” he said.

“I know.” Tony shrugged. “Just got to grin and bear it.”

“Would it really be so bad?” asked Bruce.

“Not you too,” said Tony.

“No, hear me out,” said Bruce. “Could you not work something out? It would make things... easier. Maybe. For both of you.”

Tony pulled a face. “Since when do kids make anything easier?”

“Point,” said Bruce. “But you should have children by now. Hell, you should be looking forward to the marriage of your children by now.”

“You’re not helping,” said Tony, growing defensive.

“Sorry.”

“You know the reasons.”

“Yes, I know, my friend. I know what your reasons are – and hers. I’m only saying that other people in your position do something about it. They adopt.”

“Did you drag me out here just to nag at me?” asked Tony.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” said Bruce. “You know I didn’t. But with my secretarial hat on, I feel the need to remind you that I am also responsible for drawing up your will. And you need a named beneficiary to take over the business. And legally, it can’t be Pepper.”

“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine today,” said Tony. He deflated. “I’ll think of something,” he added. “I could always adopt you, Mr Fluffypants. Long time since I took you in as a stray. About time I formalised the arrangement.”

“I guess I asked for that,” said Bruce.

“You know I’m going to live forever anyway,” said Tony.

The Acropolis was a hive of activity, with the ruined stones of several temples being stacked and rearranged according to some plan that was impossible to determine. Rebuilding had also begun in a couple of areas, and light yellow limestone was being replaced with gleaming white marble.

“It’s changed a lot,” said Tony. “It must be a year since I was last up here.”

“Over here, Tony.” Bruce led him to a raised area just to the right of the entrance.

“Didn’t this use to be a temple of Athena?”

Bruce nodded, and they both paused to look around. There was nothing left standing. “They’re suggesting Athena Nike now,” said Bruce.

Tony chuckled. “It’s appropriate, Victory. I like it.” Tony gazed up to where he imagined the temple might one day stand.

“Just something simple,” said Bruce. “We can place columns on two sides, a statue out front.”

“Okay,” said Tony.

“I haven’t even told you how much it’s going to cost yet,” said Bruce.

Tony smiled, and they started to make their way back down the hill. “You’ve got the go-ahead,” he said.

“We’re going to have to play it smart about who we get to work on this,” said Bruce.

“Explain?”

“Well, the whole town’s being rebuilt. You’re going to struggle to find a decent stone-mason who isn’t already associated with half a dozen other projects. If we’re not careful, the project could stall for years.”

“Huh.” Tony shrugged. “What about the guy my dad used to use? Differences aside, the stuff that dad had built was actually pretty amazing.”

“Your father’s boy, the sculptor?” said Bruce. “I have no idea what became of him.”

“My father’s boy?” asked Tony. “He was his beloved?”

“Sure,” said Bruce. “Your father always was a strong supporter of the arts. According to his records, Howard acted as patron to the boy, and in return… well, you know how it goes.”

“That’s business.” The tone of bitter cynicism was unmistakable in Tony’s voice.

Bruce reached out and patted Tony on the shoulder. “At least the guy had a career out of the relationship, whatever your father’s motives.”

“What was his name?”

“Steven, I think. You know, I think I might know someone who knows what happened to him.”

“Steven.”

Bruce smiled at Tony and led him back towards the town.

Tony followed Bruce down dingy alleyways, towards several small workshops. The ramshackle hut stood squarely between a cooper’s and a wheelwright’s shop.

“How do you even know about this place?” asked Tony.

“I’ve read your father’s papers. I know who he used to deal with. Who his staff were, who his suppliers were. We still use some of the same people.”

Bruce rapped lightly on the doorframe of the wooden hut. There was no door, just a raggedy old sheet strung across the entranceway. After a few seconds, a withered hand drew back the curtain, and an old woman gazed out at them, blinking in the light. While her face was wrinkled, her eyes were clear and bright, and her expression shrewd.

“Hello?” asked Bruce.

“Who are you?” the old woman asked.

“I’m Bruce Banner, and this is Tony Stark,” said Bruce, pointing in Tony’s direction.

The woman glanced briefly in Bruce’s direction, then turned a steely gaze on Tony.

“Tony Stark,” she said, “I knew your father. You don’t look much like him.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” said Tony.

“Insolent boy,” the woman replied, and smiled. “I’m Peggy Carter.” She stuck out a hand, and they both shook it.

“I can’t offer you much in the way of hospitality,” Peggy said, “but come on in.”

She withdrew back into the hut, and they followed her in, stooping in the low doorway.

The hut was sparsely furnished, with a bed laid out neatly at the far end. To one side was a stack of pots and kitchen supplies, to the other, a wooden box, which clearly held the remainder of her belongings.

Tony and Bruce sat on the floor, and Peggy rummaged around in her kitchen supplies and poured them both some wine. She passed it to them, poured herself another, then placed several small honey-cakes on a plate.

“I’m particularly fond of these,” said Peggy, taking one, and shifting backwards to sit on the edge of her bed.

Tony took a small sip of the wine, and found it bitter, but still good. He selected a honey-cake with his other hand, and found the combination of bitter wine and sweet cake rather pleasant. At his side, Bruce clearly thought the same, as he’d already finished his cake. They sat in companionable silence for a moment.

“So what can I do for you boys?” asked Peggy.

“You say you remember my father?” asked Tony.

“Very well,” said Peggy.

“Do you remember a young man who used to work for him? A young sculptor?”

“Oh, him!” said Peggy. “Yes, I do remember. Beautiful, beautiful boy. Went by the name of Steve Rogers.” She smiled.

“What can you tell us about him?”

“There’s not much to tell,” she said. “Howard met Steve just as the city was changing from tyranny to democracy. The city then – it was a different place. There was the feeling of so many possibilities. So many things, just waiting to be discovered. Anyway. Just like now, there was a lot of building work going on up on the Acropolis. Projects that had been started by the Tyrants were still being worked on ten years later, while others clamoured for them to be torn down. Howard was involved with that, and his beloved Steve had helped with some of the work: fantastic sculptures, wonderful detail, superb work. But they were both worried that these would be torn down too, before Steve had a chance to establish his name as a sculptor. Then there were plans for a new Parthenon – well, that’d be the ‘older Parthenon’ now, and your father wanted Steve to be involved. Unfortunately, Steve was up against some stiff competition from established sculptors. Steve thought if only he could get some inspiration, he’d stand a better chance of creating something outstanding that would secure his name forever.”

“And did he? Get the inspiration?” asked Tony.

“We’ll never know.” Peggy shrugged. “He went to seek the advice of the oracle and was never heard from again.”

They fell silent.

“Some say his ship was lost at sea.”

“Oh.”

“Well, that’s that then,” said Tony.

“Pity,” said Bruce.

“No one knows what happened?” said Tony.

“No,” said Peggy. “He just left one day and never returned.”

“Hmm.” Tony sipped thoughtfully at his wine. “Well, I could sure do with some inspiration of my own right now.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“How do you feel about a trip to Delphi, Bruce? For old times’ sake,” said Tony. “You, me, the world stretching out before us...”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your trying to avoid petty bureaucrats, would it?” asked Bruce.

“Oh, no,” said Peggy, firmly. “He didn’t go to the oracle at Delphi.”

“No?”

“He went to Dodona,” said Peggy.

“Dodona?” asked Bruce.

“Yes, that’s right. Now, let me just get this straight. He said Delphi’s too commercial. Full of banks and tourists. He liked the idea of the oracle at Dodona. Inspiration from simplicity and sacred trees.”

“How about that, Bruce? Your home town,” said Tony.

“Right,” said Bruce, not sounding at all pleased about it.

“How do you fancy taking me home to meet your folks?” said Tony, grinning.

Bruce looked like he’d just discovered a spider in his shoe. Peggy laughed.

“That’s all I can remember, I’m afraid,” said Peggy.

“Well, that’s plenty,” said Tony, slapping his knee with his free hand. “Bruce?”

“Yes, thank you, Peggy. You’ve given us plenty to think about.”

“My pleasure.”

They made their farewells and started to make their way back to Tony’s house. Tony slung an arm companionably around Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce generally took this as a sign that he was about to be asked to do something he didn’t like.

“It’s a mystery,” said Tony.

“Uh-huh,” said Bruce.

“Peggy said Steve ‘left and never came back’. No way is that the same as dying.”

“Right,” said Bruce.

“And that business about his boat sinking. That’s just hearsay. There’s no evidence for that.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” asked Bruce.

“I need a sculptor, Bruce. You said it yourself. A decent one. The best. I owe it to myself… and the memory of my poor dead father...” he gestured dramatically, “to find out what happened to his beloved Steve.”

“You know you’re certifiable, right?” said Bruce.

“Would a trip home be so bad?” said Tony.

“You’re really not going to shut up about this, are you?” asked Bruce.

“Really not,” said Tony. “Oh, and while I think of it, when you finish putting that contract together for Ampelios, see about getting a couple of dozen more of those cakes sent down to Peggy. I want to make sure she’s got something to offer us next time we pay a visit.”

***

They set sail for Dodona two days later. Bruce had managed to secure them passage on a small and overcrowded trading ship, so any congratulations Tony might have felt tempted to give himself on winning this battle were somewhat tempered by being squashed in alongside amphorae of wine, oil, and fish-stock.

They slept out on deck under the stars. The rocking motion of the boat was no way near as comforting as it should have been.

The third time Tony was wakened by the sound of creaking cargo and snoring sailors, he decided to wake Bruce up to share his pain.

“Bruce!” Tony whispered loudly, poking him sharply in the ribs.

Bruce made a discontented sound, and it took another couple of prods to wake him up.

“What’s up? No, never mind,” moaned Bruce, rubbing a hand across his eyes. He sighed. “What is it?”

“I was just wondering. How long is it since you went back home?”

“Oh, about fifteen years. Why?”

“It’s just, you don’t seem that pleased to be going,” said Tony.

“Well, I can’t say I am,” mumbled Bruce.

“Why?” asked Tony.

Bruce sighed again. He paused. “The last time I went back was for a wedding. It was… the wedding of the girl I was supposed to marry.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” Bruce shuffled around in his blanket and turned away from Tony.

Tony never was very good at taking the hint.

“Your parents were probably insufferable, right?” Tony said.

“Adoptive parents,” said Bruce, moving around again onto his back, and staring up at the sky.

Right. How could he have forgotten that, thought Tony.

“Yeah, well,” said Bruce. He seemed to decide that disclosure was the only way to stop Tony from quizzing him for the rest of the night. “My parents traded in horses. They were taken in the first wave of the Persian invasion.”

“Killed?”

“Slavery, I think. There’s no way to know. I was only a baby. I was rescued by a girl. Somehow she managed to get away and hid, and eventually she settled in Dodona and married a local man.”

“Sorry,” said Tony.

“S’okay,” said Bruce.

They lay in silence for a moment, and Tony thought that maybe Bruce had drifted back off to sleep.

“Helena, my foster-mother, she was… over-protective is probably the wrong word. She didn’t want me to leave Dodona. Everything I’ve managed to achieve, it’s like it’s not good enough. It’s like a betrayal of everything they did for me. Should have stayed home and tended the farm. Not given myself airs, got above my station.”

“Bruce, hey,” said Tony softly.

“No, it’s alright,” Bruce said. “I’m glad I left. I’m actually really happy with my life. I just wish they could be happy for me, too.”

“Hey,” said Tony, and placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

They lay there in silence, and before Tony knew it, it was morning, and he realised that he must have fallen back to sleep. Bruce didn’t mention their conversation, which meant Tony could easily pretend that it hadn’t happened.

On their second day at sea, Tony found Bruce making notes on one of the wax tablets he habitually carried around with him. “I’m starting to think that we should have taken the overland route,” Tony complained. “This is taking far too long. What are you working on?”

Bruce smiled up at him. “Actually, something I’ve been thinking about for a long, long time. I just didn’t have enough experience to begin working on the problem before now.”

“Well, come on, tell me,” said Tony, sitting down next to him and knocking their shoulders together.

“It’s the puzzle of the oracle,” said Bruce.

“Okay,” said Tony, gesturing for Bruce to continue.

“Dodona is unique. It’s the oldest oracle, older than Delphi. And it’s the only oracle where the priests interpret the rustling of the oak and beech trees to get messages from the gods. So, what I want to know is: what makes these trees so special? What powers do they have, that lets them pick up signals from the gods?”

“Oh, hey, yeah,” said Tony, seizing the problem. “But – what if it’s not the trees? What if it’s the priests and priestesses who have a special power? One that lets them interpret signs from trees?”

Bruce’s eyes widened. “You could be right.” He smiled. “Maybe they can interpret signs from trees anywhere. It’s certainly worth bearing in mind.”

Tony smiled. “This is going to be fun. Have you got another one of these?” He pointed at Bruce’s wax tablet. “We can work on this together.”

Bruce smiled, and suddenly looked the most relaxed Tony had seen him in a while.

On the late afternoon of the fourth day, after several stops along the way to unload cargo and take on new stock, they made landfall at Sybota, the coastal settlement closest to Dodona. It was an otherwise unscheduled stop, so the captain wasted no time in leaving them in the harbour and setting sail again. They leant against the wall for a few minutes and watched as the boat headed towards Corfu and the lowering sun.

“Come on,” said Tony. “Let’s find some horses and get some supplies. Hopefully we can be on our way before the sun goes down.”

They found provisions easily enough, plus some equipment Bruce thought he would need for his experiments. Finding horses proved to be rather more difficult. Eventually, they found one horse, and a mule which Bruce suggested he ride, mostly because of Tony’s fragile ego.

“You see,” said Bruce. “You pretend that you’re a man of the people, but when it comes to something like this, you always choose the rich man’s option.”

“Not true,” said Tony, smiling. “And before you say ‘prove it’, I’m wise to your game, Banner. I know this is just your way to get me riding the mule, and the end result of that will be that you spend the rest of the journey bombarding me with endless ‘ass’ jokes.”

“Hairy ass jokes,” said Bruce.

“Stubborn, dirty, low-to-the ground hairy ass jokes,” said Tony. “I have travelled with you before. I remember Delphi.”

“You remember the hairy ass parts of Delphi, anyway,” said Bruce.

Tony grinned.

They set off, and at approximately one-mile intervals, they stopped by the nearest oak tree so that Bruce could collect samples for his experiments. He plucked some leaves, wrapped them in muslin and carefully marked them to indicate the distance from Dodona at which they’d been picked. He planned to analyse the leaves later, when he’d collected samples from the entire route, plus some from Dodona itself. They managed about five miles before the sun set and it became too dark to see any pot holes in the track. By the time Tony had started a fire, it was dark.

They ate fish grilled over the fire, and laid down next to it in their blankets to sleep.

“We’re lucky this isn’t a regular trade route,” said Bruce. “It’s going to limit the chances of bandits.”

“I’m still not taking any chances,” said Tony. He looked shrewdly at Bruce over their camp fire. “Are you worried?”

“About bandits? Not particularly.”

Tony shivered. “How can this possibly be colder than the deck of the boat?”

“It’s not,” said Bruce.

“Come over here?”

Bruce snorted. “I’m staying this side of the fire, thanks. If I snuggle up next to you, you’ll just hog all the heat from the fire.”

Tony paused, and realised that he was once again watching Bruce’s eyes sparkle in firelight. “This is fun,” he said.

Bruce made a noise in the back of his throat, which Tony chose to interpret as agreement.

“Don’t get me wrong,” said Tony, “I’ve got a ton of things I want to finish back home, but it’s ages since we did this. Went on a journey somewhere.”

“Yeah,” said Bruce. “What happened to us?”

“It’s gotta be getting on for ten years,” said Tony.

“Not since you married Pepper,” said Bruce.

“Surely we’ve been somewhere since Delphi,” said Tony.

Bruce barked out a laugh. “That again? That’s the second time you’ve mentioned Delphi today.”

“I just keep coming back to that hillside. The stars.”

“I won’t tell people you’re a closet romantic.”

“The oracle told me that danger awaited at every turn, you know,” said Tony.

“To which, I believe, you responded that you just wouldn’t turn, then,” said Bruce.

“Gotta admit, my logic was flawless.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve missed this,” said Tony.

Bruce made that sound in the back of his throat again.

“Honestly,” said Tony.

Bruce yawned. “We’re getting too old for crazy schemes and madcap adventures.”

“We will never be too old for crazy schemes and madcap adventures,” said Tony. With that in mind, they drifted off to sleep.

The following day was warm, but still with a nip in the air when they were in the shade. They made good time and reached Dodona not long after lunch.

“Oh, here we go,” said Bruce as they approached the settlement. A child noticed their approach, and ran off into town to spread the news. By the time they reached the square, several women were watching them from the doorways of their houses.

“It’s got to be a couple of hours before the others are back from the fields,” said Tony. “More, even. We’re going to be hoarse from sharing all our gossip by then.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Living with you has taught me when and how to keep my mouth shut,” he said.

On the opposite side of the square, a tiny grey-haired woman appeared, clapped a hand to her mouth, then started to run towards them.

“Bruce? Is that you?” she said. “Oh, my little Bruce!” ‘Little Bruce’ was at least a foot taller than she was.

“Mom,” Bruce said. He dismounted from the mule, and she ran into his outstretched arms.

Tony nodded in her direction, dismounted and stood patiently waiting for them.

“And who is this?” Bruce’s mother asked, breaking away from the hug.

“Mom, Tony Stark of Athens.”

“From your letters.” She critically looked Tony up and down. “I thought you’d be taller.”

Bruce smiled at Tony. “Tony, this is Helena, my mother.”

“Good to meet you,” said Tony, shaking her hand.

“Is it just the two of you?” Helena asked, looking around as if she expected to see an entourage following them into the town.

“Yes,” Bruce said.

“Well, come on then,” she said, and led them towards her house.

“It’s started already,” Bruce whispered once his mother’s back was turned.

“I figured,” whispered Tony.

For the rest of the day and well into the evening, they were bombarded with questions from a continuous stream of relatives and neighbours, who found increasingly flimsy excuses to pay the Banner household a visit. It was late by the time they managed to get Bruce’s parents alone, to discuss the real reason why they were there.

“So,” said Bruce, as they finally stretched out and relaxed together in the family hall. “This is going to seem like a weird question, but here goes. Do you remember a man who visited here about forty years ago? A famous sculptor, who visited the oracle? He would have been a young man, in his mid-twenties. I’m told his boat was lost at sea when he was on the way home.”

Bruce’s parents both visibly startled at this question, and looked meaningfully at each other. After a short pause, Nestor, his foster-father said, “if this is who I think you mean, you already know this story.”

“What? I do?” said Bruce.

“Don’t you remember the story I told you when you were little? Of the man who defied the gods and got what he asked for?”

“No,” said Bruce. “I don’t.”

Bruce rarely spoke about his childhood. From what Tony could remember, his memories mostly consisted of his mother being neurotic while he wandered the hillsides learning about nature.

His mother adjusted her robes and leaned forwards slightly.

“Once upon a time,” she began, “there was a young man from Athens. An artist beyond compare.

“Despite creating the most beautiful sculptures known to man, he wanted more. His passion to draw beauty from stone consumed him. The stones held a secret: how to make a sculpture so real, it became alive. He wanted this secret for himself.”

Bruce and Tony exchanged glances across the room. Tony wisely held his tongue, and took another sip of his drink.

“He learned that in Dodona, the oldest and most sacred of all shrines, the gods passed messages to man through the wonder of the leaves, the wonder of nature. He set off that night, and travelled without pause until he arrived.

“As the sun rose, he ran to the priest and said, ‘tell me, oh sage, how can I create a sculpture that will leave people breathless with wonder?’

“But the gods were displeased with this question, and knowing it was wrong to steal breath from man and give it to stone, gave him the oracle, ‘you will become what you seek’.

“The young man was dissatisfied with this answer. He went away, and on the second day, he returned again, and asked a similar question. He ran to the priest and said, ‘tell me oh oracle, how can a weak man such as I please the gods with my work?’

“The gods were vexed at this question, and saw it as vanity. Once again, they sent back the message, ‘you will become what you seek.’

“By the third day, the young man was desperate in his search for an answer to his question. He wandered the hillside raging to himself; all the while ignorant that the raiding parties of the Persians were close by. As he wandered, though, he heard a crying from the bushes. Pushing the branches aside, he found a young woman, unearthly, and with her a small child, almost blue with cold.

“‘Please take my child,’ she said, ‘and keep him safe, for the Persians are nearby and will surely kill him.’ When he appeared to resist, she railed at him, saying, ‘take him, please, and do not say I gave him to you’. Eventually, he agreed to keep the child safe.

“For a third time, he went to the priests, this time with the babe in his arms. He pleaded with them, saying, ‘I have found this baby in the bushes, and I think his life is in danger, for the Persians are nearby. Help me. No one must know where I found him.’ The priests looked at one another and became silent and still. Then, from the sky, there was a mighty roaring wind, and the leaves all rustled together. The priests opened their mouths to speak, but instead, words came from the very leaves themselves, saying, ‘you will become what you seek’.

“And there and then, with arms outstretched and holding the baby, the man was turned to stone. His hair turned white, his face ashen, and his limbs were cast in marble.

“Seeing this, the priests were dismayed and distressed in turn. They wailed and cried to the sky and the trees, saying, ‘mother goddess, what shall we do?’

“Instead, High Zeus himself replied, saying ‘the child is mine’. And there and then, a mighty thunderbolt came down from the sky, and took the boy child away.

“Even now, the young man who turned to stone is kept safe and hidden, so his secret will not be discovered, and as a lesson for those who seek gifts that should belong to the gods alone.”

The room fell silent.

“I thought that was just a story,” said Bruce.

His mother shook her head. “There’s no such thing,” she said.

Bruce looked back over at Tony for support. “When… when was this, mother?” he asked.

“About a year or so before we arrived,” she said.

Tony watched Bruce as he unpicked her story, mentally making note of the facts that it contained. He tried to remove elements added for drama, and noted its similarities to the ‘story’ of how Bruce himself had been found as a baby.

“It wasn’t me? The child?” Bruce asked again.

“What?” asked his mother. “No, of course not. Zeus took the boy. Weren’t you listening?”

“What happened to the man? The one that got turned into the statue?” asked Tony.

“You’ll have to ask the oracle,” said Nestor.

“Ah, okay then,” said Bruce. The room fell silent again. “You know, I think I’m going to turn in. It’s been a long day.” He stood up and shook his head slightly at Tony: a tiny gesture that indicated that he just needed some time to himself and didn’t want to answer any more questions.

“Okay, dear,” said his mother. “I’ve put extra blankets in your room for your friend. You don’t mind sharing, do you, Tony?”

“No, of course not,” said Tony.

“Well, goodnight then,” said Bruce.

“I’ll try not to wake you up,” said Tony.

“I’ll turn in as well,” said Helena, and she followed Bruce out of the room.

Nestor waited until the door had clicked closed and the sound of footsteps had retreated before speaking again. “So, I hear you’re an inventor?” he asked.

“You could say that,” said Tony, grinning.

“Do you want to take a look at something? Something I’m working on?” asked Nestor.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” said Tony.

He led Tony out to an out-building, where he’d been working on modifications to a new type of plow. “It’s great to finally meet someone else who ‘gets’ this stuff,” he said, modestly.

“Wow,” said Tony, looking around with appreciation. He trailed his fingers over the objects closest to him. He found that he really liked Bruce’s father. “What’s this?” he asked, picking up a small, cylindrical metal object.

“Oh, that thing?” Nestor took it from Tony. “Actually, it’s a flute. It’s tin. I never got round to drilling out the holes.”

“Of course,” Tony said, turning the flute in his hands. He grinned. “Actually, you’ve given me an idea for something I’ve been working on. An automaton.”

“Really? I doubt you’ll be able to use tin.”

“No, that’s not it. I need to mass-produce metal tubes, but it’s, well...”

“Problematic?”

“Exactly. But if I make moulds for casting using a pliable metal like this, with a low melting point, then I don’t have to try to forge something tiny. It’s actually so simple I’m kicking myself I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“Sometimes we’ve actually got to add extra steps to simplify the process,” Nestor said.

They talked for a while, exchanging ideas until Nestor yawned. “I’d better get to bed,” he said. “Early start tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” said Tony.

“Hey, that’s alright.” He reached out and grasped Tony’s shoulder. “I’ve enjoyed this. And it’s been a weight off my mind, actually.”

“How come?” Tony said.

“I’m glad Bruce has got someone like you he can share his ideas with. I mean, I can see how it would be difficult for him away from home.”

Tony waved his hands, hoping Nestor would stop talking. All this emotional overshare was getting a bit much for him. “It’s okay, really. He’s okay.”

“No, let me say this,” Nestor said. “Helena will be all over Bruce, pressuring him to get married and raise a family. Fair enough. But you and I and Bruce, we’ve seen rather more of the world than we’d like, and we know that families aren’t always the answer to everything.”

“Yeah,” said Tony, rubbing the back of his head.

“And on that note, I guess we’d better go back inside and find out just how much Helena has annoyed Bruce since she said she was going off to bed.”

“Yeah, a cranky Bruce is not a fun Bruce,” said Tony. He paused. “One other thing,” he said, suddenly remembering the story Helena had told them earlier. “Tell me to mind my own business if you want, I totally get that, I’m overstepping here, but that story of the man who turned into a statue? It sounds an awful lot like the story of how your wife found Bruce. Parts of it, anyway. If you don’t mind me saying.”

Nestor gave him a shrewd glance, letting the silence stretch out between them for a few seconds as he leant back on his work bench. “There’s a reason,” he said, “But it’s not what you think.”

Tony kept silent.

“Don’t think ill of her. Please. She did it with the best of intentions.”

“What?” asked Tony.

“She… borrowed elements from that story, to make the story of how we acquired Bruce a little more… palatable. I guess it’s one of the reasons why we never told that story to Bruce very often when he was a child. He would have picked up on the coincidences even then, and we would never have heard the end of it.”

“What are you saying?” asked Tony.

“It’s true that we found him,” said Nestor. “And it’s true that Helena came to Dodona to escape from the Persians. What isn’t true is where we found Bruce. Helena and I married shortly after she arrived here, and we were trying for our first child, with no luck. One day, we were out in the hills tending the sheep, and there he was on the hillside.”

Tony’s mind worked quickly. “Just left, out on the hillside.”

“Yes.”

“That would be in a place where children were occasionally left… out on the hillside?” Tony asked.

“That’s right.”

Tony nodded his understanding. The practice of ‘exposing’ babies – leaving unwanted children out to die somewhere remote – was still common in and around Athens, but Tony hadn’t realised it was also common elsewhere.

“We didn’t want him to grow up knowing that,” said Nestor. “I’m only telling you now in case he asks certain questions. He can never know,” said Nestor. “His mother would be distraught. She’s kept this hidden for so long.”

Tony thought that maybe Nestor was asking rather a lot from him. He bit his bottom lip and swore quietly to himself.

“Do I have your word you won’t say anything?” said Nestor.

Tony nodded. “Sure. He won’t hear it from me.”

“Good. In truth, we have no idea who his real parents are, but based on where we found him, they must be from Dodona. Someone in this town knows that he’s theirs. They’ve watched him grow up and have kept silent his entire life.”

“I get it,” said Tony. Parents are absolutely the best people at fucking their kids up, he thought.

They made their way back inside, and Tony crept into Bruce’s room as quietly as he could manage.

“I’m awake,” whispered Bruce, as Tony tried to take his shoes off quietly.

“Thank the gods,” said Tony. He heaved a deep sigh, and threw his shoes across the room.

“There’s plenty of room. Grab your blanket. I’ll move over.”

Bruce shuffled over on the bed, and Tony lay down next to him.

“Been having fun with dad?” asked Bruce.

“Yeah, he’s great. I like him a lot. Actually, he’s given me some ideas for my automaton.”

“Good,” said Bruce, quietly smiling.

“Did your mom….?”

“Oh yeah. Really.” Bruce waved a hand, then wiped it down across his face. “Apparently there’s at least six eligible young women in town, some of whom are at least twenty years younger than me. And a couple of houses nearby that would be just the thing for our family.” He groaned, and Tony chuckled.

“You laugh now, but give it a day or so and she’ll be setting you up with my cousin.”

Tony frowned. “Tomorrow I’ll tell her that you’re secretly married to a troupe of Egyptian acrobats.”

“You will not,” said Bruce.

“And their camels.”

“Ass.” Bruce nudged Tony in the ribs. “I’ve been thinking about that story my mom told,” he said.

“Oh yeah,” said Tony, dreading what was coming next.

“I imagine the content has been changed somewhat,” said Bruce.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, when you unpick it. Take out all the points added for drama. I mean, I can see it’s been embellished.” He shrugged. “I love her dearly, but mom has always had a rather flexible approach to the truth.”

That was kind, thought Tony. “So… what are we left with?”

“What we’re left with is a man who comes to Dodona for advice and has some kind of… mishap? Accident? We don’t know what happened to him. The only way we can find out, see if he’s been turned into a statue or not, is to find the statue.”

“Okay,” said Tony. “And the other stuff? The business with the gods?”

“May very much depend on what we find.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” said Tony. “I can work with that. So tomorrow?”

“We go see the oracle. Ask questions. Get our advice. While we’re there, I can collect the final batch of leaves for my experiment, and you can decide what you want to do about finding that sculptor.”

“Gonna be a busy day,” said Tony.

“So, sleep,” said Bruce.

Tony punched Bruce lightly on the shoulder.

***

In the early morning light, the sacred oak grove looked ethereal and mysterious. A light breeze stirred the trees, showering the ground with dew, which in turn caught the rays of the sun on its way to the ground.

Bruce worked quickly and quietly to take sample leaves from several of the trees. When he was done, he wrapped them in muslin, marked the collection sites on their wrapping, and stored them in a bag with the others.

Tony got bored very quickly. While they waited for the priests to appear, he turned over rocks and stones, tried – with no success – to climb several trees, and then settled down to work on the calculations for his machine.

Two priests appeared silently from nowhere about an hour later. They were a mismatched pair: the first man had mousey-blonde hair and a round face: the sort of face that looked permanently grumpy. The second man was slightly older, with a longish nose, and a receding hairline. He had the sort of face that looked permanently bemused.

For a few seconds, the pairs simply watched each other from across the clearing.

“Told you we should have got up sooner,” said the round-faced man to the other priest.

“What you actually said was, ‘is there any more coffee’,” said the other priest.

“We’re here for some advice?” said Bruce, sounding a little unsure of himself.

“We’re actually here for some information,” clarified Tony.

The priests fell silent again.

This was getting a little creepy, Tony thought. Every time the priests spoke, the trees rustled. And every time they were silent, the trees became still. He looked over at Bruce, and noticed that his eyebrows were raised, a sure sign that he’d also noticed.

“You can have one oracle,” said the first man, “’cause you both want the same thing.” The trees rustled around him.

“Huh,” said Bruce.

“Sit,” said the second man, pointing at the ground. “Sit down, listen.”

They sat in a circle facing each other, and the priests closed their eyes. Tony elbowed Bruce, and opened his mouth to speak.

“Quiet!” said the second man again.

“I only…” said Tony.

The first man opened one eye and squinted. “Listen, pal, do you want this or not?” The branches nearest his head bowed and jostled slightly.

Tony finally became quiet. They sat in silence for several minutes. The longer they sat, the more Tony could hear.

The round-faced priest then opened his mouth, but the words seemed to come from the trees around him.

“This is no Trick - stir up, be quick, As guard he stands in wait. Bow down and kneel, Lo – kiss his heel: Prepare to meet your fate.”

He closed his mouth.

“Seriously?” said Tony, and Bruce elbowed him in the ribs to get him to shut up. The second man opened his mouth, and again, the words seemed to come from the trees.

“Call out! Call out! He lingers here, Behind the shining gate. By power of three, remember Me, This is your natural state.”

He closed his mouth.

“Really?” said Tony, unable to keep silent for more than a few seconds. “That’s a little overly-dramatic, don’t you think?”

The round-faced man shrugged. “Hey, I just work here,” he said.

“Can you remember that?” Tony asked Bruce.

“I’ll try,” said Bruce. Tony watched him close his eyes and quietly recite the two rhymes to himself, over and over.

“Is the ‘Me’ in the rhyme Athena? Since this is her oracle,” said Bruce. The priests stared back at him blankly.

“Can I ask you something else?” said Tony. “While you’re here?”

“No,” said the second man.

Tony made a face. “It’s about a guy, who came here a long time ago? We were told he, well, that he was turned into a statue, actually.” Tony gestured between himself and Bruce, wishing he could kick himself for how ridiculous he sounded.

The two priests looked at each other, clearly passing information between themselves.

“He,” said the round-faced man, gesturing towards the other priest, “watches him while he is sleeping.”

The older man shrugged. “And he,” he said, “sees better from a distance.”

The trees rustled again.

“Right, thanks,” said Tony. “Jees, guys. Could you be any less helpful? Really? Behind the shining gate?”

The priests smiled knowingly at each other, stood up, and left.

“I hate those guys,” said Tony.

Bruce chuckled. “You want me to repeat that rhyme?” he asked.

“Yeah, go on then,” said Tony. “What have we got to lose.”

Bruce repeated the rhymes.

“So, whatever we’re after – Steve, presumably – is here.”

“Guess so,” said Bruce, giving a shrug.

“And we have just got to, what, call out?

“Apparently,” said Bruce.

“You do it,” said Tony.

“No, you do it,” said Bruce.

Tony sighed. “Steve, are you there?” he yelled. “Oh Steeeeve? Where are you?” He paused. “Ridiculous.”

Bruce tapped Tony on the shoulder, and pointed at the ground. A silvery track had appeared in the grass. They got up and cautiously followed it. It led them away from the sacred grove towards the river.

“Shining gate, shining gate, shining gate,” mumbled Bruce quietly to himself.

Tony, taking the lead, saw it before Bruce did. “Does that look like a shining gate to you?”

A short distance ahead, the river that flowed towards them cascaded across some rocks. A little further upstream was a waterfall.

“Oh, great,” said Bruce.

“I guess we go behind the waterfall,” said Tony.

The path led up to the waterfall, but the actual traverse to its edge was across slippery rocks. It wasn’t until he was nearly upon it that Tony could see there was a void behind the falling water.

“Today is turning out to be a little more exciting than I’d imagined,” said Tony, sounding pleased with himself.

He ducked behind the sheet of water, getting soaked in the spray and mist. He was completely out of sight by the time it was Bruce’s turn to duck behind the water. For a moment, they were separated by the cascade, and then Bruce was also through, shaking himself and shivering.

The waterfall from the other side was a thing of beauty. The darkness of the cave only served to accentuate the sunlight gleaming off of the water. The waterfall also had a deadening effect on sound. They were completely cut off from the outside world, and aside from the muffled roar of the waterfall itself, all they could hear was the steady drip, drip of water seeping its way down through the rocks.

The cave was just tall enough for them to stand up in, and dark enough that they could not see the furthermost edges of it.

“Steve?” whispered Tony.

A trail of shining footprints led across the floor.

“I have got to find out how they do that,” said Tony.

Predictably, the trail led to the back of the cavern. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, they could see that there was an alcove there, and in it, a statue of a man. No: a man, frozen in time, white, and waxy as alabaster.

Steve was caught in the action of kneeling on one knee, arms cradling something in front of his chest. The light glinted dully off the planes of his shoulders, arms and thighs.

Whatever Steve had been doing when he was frozen, he clearly hadn’t needed many clothes for it.

“Right, well,” said Tony, and coughed. “What next?”

Bruce walked up to Tony and stood next to him. “Apparently, you’re supposed to ‘kiss his heel’,” said Bruce.

“Seriously?” said Tony.

Bruce shrugged. “Seriously. ‘Bow down and kneel, Lo – kiss his heel,’ those are the words.”

“Your oracle – the oracle of your home town – is lame, Banner.”

Tony kneeled, and carefully kissed the raised heel of the kneeling man. He could swear that he heard a high-pitched chuckling sound as he did so. Tony sat back on his haunches, then shuffled back across the floor to sit cross-legged.

“Now we wait, I guess,” said Tony.

“I guess,” said Bruce.

In the dim light of the cave, the change was so subtle at first that Tony thought he was imagining it. The first noticeable signs of any change were in Steve’s shoulders, which slowly sagged as his arms fell to his sides. Eventually, Steve seemed to come back to himself as his pallor faded. His eyes cleared and their irises faded to blue; his lips pinkened. His mouth moved, and he gasped in a giant lungful of air, then another.

“Cold,” he said.

Bruce and Tony ran to him and began to rub at his back and arms. They helped him to stand, while he struggled to breathe. After what seemed like an hour, they held a normal man, albeit one who was still very cold.

“Where am I?” said Steve. “The baby. Where’s the baby?”

“In a minute,” said Tony.

“No, now,” said Steve.

“It’s safe. It’s okay.” said Tony. “Er, Zeus took him.”

“Zeus?”

“We need to get you somewhere warmer,” said Bruce. “Do you think you can walk?”

“Yeah,” said Steve. “What is this place?”

“A cave,” said Tony. “Look, we’ll fill you in in a minute. Let’s just get you outside in the warm first, okay?”

“’Kay,” said Steve.

They stumbled back towards the waterfall supporting Steve between them.

For the next few minutes they said very little, helping Steve through the waterfall and across slippery rocks until they reached the path. As soon as Steve’s feet touched the grassy bank, he sank to the ground. Bruce took off his cloak and wrapped Steve in it.

Tony and Bruce took it in turns giving Steve what little information they had.

“That’s wrong,” said Steve. “You’ve got it all wrong. I was on my way to the oracle, and I stopped in Dodona overnight. I wanted some rest before seeking advice in the morning. I took a walk. Wanted to clear my head, think of the best way to frame my question to the oracle, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Bruce.

“Anyway, I guess I misjudged just how close the Persians had come.” He looked around as if expecting to see signs of them. “I was in the valley near the sacred grove, and I heard a snuffling noise coming from one of the bushes. I couldn’t work out what it was, so I took a closer look. It was a baby. Just lying there.”

“No one else around,”

“No,” said Steve. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Anyway, I picked the child up and started to look around for his mother. I was worried. He didn’t look right. I mean, I’m no expert on babies, but this kid was blue, you know?”

“No,” said Tony. “Not really.”

“Anyway, I thought that my best bet would be to work my way back towards the town, and visit the oracle later. Anyway, before I knew it I heard hoof beats, and a raiding party just swooped down. I tried to hide, but there was no cover: nothing I could do to hide this baby in my arms. They found me and dragged me out in front of their leader. I thought, this is it, you know?”

Tony and Bruce nodded in unison.

“But – and this is where it starts to get a little fuzzy – just as I was deciding whether to stand and fight, probably die and have them take the kid, or go with them so I could protect him – I mean, I knew it meant slavery, but no matter what anyone else says, as long as there’s a chance of freedom, slavery’s gotta be better than dying, right? Just as I was calculating the odds, there was this beam of light. Like lightning, coming down out of the sky. And I was in the middle of it. I could see through it, and the Persians were scared, backing off, looking up at the sky.

“And there was a voice. And it said, ‘this one belongs to me’. And that’s all I remember. It got cold, and then I think I blacked out.” Steve paused. “How long? How long was I in there?”

Tony and Bruce exchanged glances.

“How long?” asked Steve.

“Forty-two years,” said Bruce.

“What?”

“You’ve basically slept through the entire war,” said Tony, never one to sugar-coat anything.

“Great Zeus.”

“We should take him back to your folks,” said Tony.

“Wait, what?” said Bruce. “Are you insane?”

What? Why not?” said Tony.

“Can you imagine it? This guy – and sorry, Steve, it’s just well… as far as my folks would be concerned, you come from legend.”

“You’re basically a god,” said Tony.

Steve’s face froze into a horrified rictus.

“That was a joke! Honestly, a joke,” said Tony, and put his hands up.

Steve groaned and put his head in his hands. “Just… give me a moment. This is intense.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” said Bruce, kindly. “But the story I told you of how you came to be frozen back there, it’s become a legend round here. If we took you back to my parents’ place, there’d be an uproar.”

Steve’s expression showed that the reality of the situation was only just beginning to sink in.

“I’m not sure I could cope, anyway,” he said.

“So, what do we do?” asked Tony.

“We need to find somewhere else he can stay for the night. Then, we make our excuses and head back to Athens.”

“Right. We’re taking Steve with us, though, right?” said Tony.

“Wait, what?” said Steve.

“I mean, if you want, Steve? To go back to Athens?” said Bruce.

“Yeah, sure, I guess,” said Steve, rubbing his face. “Sorry, fellas, this is gonna take a while.”

“So, where?” said Tony.

“I know just the place,” said Bruce.

They led Steve to a grain store on the edge of town. Since it was spring, the building was nearly empty and there was not much chance of anyone visiting it. They made an alcove in one of the walls into a makeshift bed by padding it out with sacks stuffed with dry grass.

With assurances from Steve that he’d be fine, Tony and Bruce left to find them all some dinner, and find additional clothing and supplies for Steve.

They sat and ate dinner together, and attempted (with varying degrees of success) to catch him up on the events of the last forty or so years. Given everything that he’d been through, he seemed to take it all remarkably well.

The next two days disappeared in a furtive blur of hiding Steve, and trying to find additional horses, clothes and supplies for their trip south. Since Dodona was not on a predictable trade route, they decided to make their way back over land. Eventually, Tony remembered to explain to Steve why he’d been looking for him in the first place. The prospect of work seemed to root Steve in reality far quicker than talk of current events.

Finally, Bruce and Tony said their farewells to Bruce’s parents and they mounted their horses and set off towards Steve’s hiding place. Bruce had managed to acquire two additional horses, and so they finally had a horse each, plus the mule for supplies. She trotted along after them, shaking her head.

Bruce’s mother waved at them from the doorway until they were out of sight.

“Sad to be leaving?” asked Tony.

“Not really,” said Bruce, and meant it. “I’m actually keen to be back in Athens.”

Tony chuckled, and Bruce smiled at him.

“You laugh,” said Bruce, “but it’s trips like this that make me realise that Athens has been my home for a long time now, and things here… well. Love my folks as I might, it’s just too difficult. I’ve changed too much.”

Tony smiled cautiously back at him.

“Besides,” said Bruce, “I just want to get started on my experiment with these leaves. The way the trees shivered and the words seemed to come from thin air rather than from the priests? I know they hold the secret of communicating with the gods. What I want to know is: how far away from the sacred grove does this power reach? Do the leaves from trees a mile or two away from the site still hold remnants of this ability? Can we replicate this power? I have so many questions.”

Not wanting to spoil Bruce’s good mood, Tony chose his next words with care. “We’re going to have to be careful with this,” he said.

“What? I don’t get it.”

“This power. Actually being able to communicate with the gods directly? This is something that people would kill for. Can you imagine this in the wrong hands? If an army had this?”

Bruce seemed to deflate slightly.

“Hey, it’s good, it’s great even. In the right hands, this could improve the lives of thousands of people. But we’re going to have to be careful who we tell. There’s too much at stake.”

They rode in silence until they reached the grain store where Steve was hiding. Bruce’s mood only started to lighten when Steve stepped out of the barn.

The last few days had seen a dramatic improvement in Steve’s appearance. Where before Steve had stood with shoulders stooped, pale and wan, a couple of days of fresh air and sunshine had worked their magic. Steve now stood tall and confident, and it was only his eyes that gave away the fact that he was still struggling to adjust to his new situation.

“We ready?” asked Steve.

“We’re ready. Grab your gear,” said Tony.

Steve made friends with his horse, and quickly divided his belongings between his horse and the mule.

“Athens, here we come,” said Tony.

***

White flowers bloomed on the hillsides as they started the long trek south. Tony, Bruce and Steve travelled mostly in silence; primarily because the narrowness of the path meant that they had to travel in single file. They took early breakfasts while listening to a cacophony of birdsong. They had long and leisurely lunches in still-damp grass, while insects buzzed around them. In the evenings, they broke to make camp only when the sun was sinking behind the nearest peak.

In the evenings and the protective flicker of the campfire, Steve asked questions. Lots of questions. Tony found that he rarely knew the answers.

Occasionally, he caught Bruce watching them both, a puzzled and unhappy look upon his face. Thankfully, Bruce could be distracted by board games.

Mid-morning on the fourth day, Bruce broke the pattern and pulled his horse up alongside Tony’s.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, watching Steve pull slightly further ahead of them.

“Sure,” said Tony.

“Are you… erm.”

Tony looked bemused. “Just say it.”

Bruce grimaced, and paused. “You’re getting fairly attached to Steve, right?”

Tony was surprised. “Where did this come from? Never mind. Yeah, sure. He’s a nice guy. What’s not to like?”

“That’s not quite what I meant,” said Bruce.

“Well then, spit it out.”

Bruce sighed. “Okay. It’s just that we’ve been having lots of discussions about Steve’s relationship with Howard. Now, I might be getting my signals mixed here, but, well, it seems to me that Steve is wondering if you want to pick up where Howard left off.”

Tony pulled his horse to a stop. “Wait, what?” he asked. “No. No way. You think he thinks I want to take him as my lover? Absolutely not.”

“It might be worth broaching the subject with him.”

“Oh, yeah, because that’s a fun conversation. Anyway, he knows I’m married to Pepper.”

“And we both know what that means,” said Bruce.

Tony pulled back as if stung.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for,” said Bruce.

“You’re damn right it was.”

“I’m sorry,” said Bruce again. “But what you have to realise here is that Steve is struggling with some kind of romanticised version of Howard Stark – no matter what you say – and he’s doing it to make it easier for him to cope with the fact that almost everyone he knew is dead.”

“But me and Steve?” said Tony. “Not to put too fine a point on it, it would be just wrong. On so many levels. He was with my father, for gods’ sake.”

“Well,” nodded Bruce. “That is why you should have that conversation with him. Before it gets even more difficult. All he knows so far is that we’ve tracked him the length of Greece, revived him, and are taking him back to Athens. And once there, we’re offering him work and a roof over his head. Somewhere in that mess of a brain he’s currently dealing with, he’s going to be wondering what he’s going to be asked to give in return.”

“He can’t think that, surely,” said Tony. “I mean, he does work, we give him money. He knows that.”

“And he worked for Howard too. Besides, have you actually mentioned payment to him at any time at all? That he doesn’t owe you anything?” asked Bruce.

“No. Of course not. I…”

“Just didn’t think of it,” said Bruce, kindly.

Tony sighed.

“So this is a conversation you need to have,” said Bruce.

“Or you could, I don’t know, just talk to him about a contract for the work or something,” said Tony, flapping his hands.

“Now who’s being sensible,” said Bruce.

They continued along the path and quickly caught up with Steve. They were within twenty feet of him when there was a sudden rustling from the undergrowth, and a colossal beast broke through the cover and landed on the path between them. It snarled and span around on the spot, turning to face Tony and Bruce. It had the body of a lion, but a grotesque head like that of a man. As it tensed its muscles, it grinned, revealing rows of fierce, shark-like teeth. Tony gazed into its bright green eyes, then looked towards Steve, who had turned his horse around to face them, and was obviously preparing to dismount. As Tony’s gaze returned to the creature, he noticed that its tail was tipped with a row of poisonous-looking spikes.

“Stay where you are,” croaked Bruce, pulling hard on the reigns of his horse to stop it from bolting.

“Me or him?” asked Tony, struggling not only with his own horse, but the mule, who was hitched to her.

“All of you,” said Bruce. “It’s a manticore. Those spikes on its tail, they can paralyse or kill.”

“I’m more worried about the end facing us right now,” said Tony.

The manticore grinned at Tony, and licked its lips.

“Tasty,” it hissed.

Tony’s eyes opened wide. “It understands us?”

The manticore nodded slowly.

“The Persians must have left it behind,” whispered Bruce. “They’re Persian animals.”

“Not really caring about that right now,” said Tony.

“Clever, clever,” said the manticore, smiling again. “Will eat you last, curly-head.” The manticore licked its lips again, and swished its tail from side to side for good measure.

Tony quickly glanced up and saw that Steve had swung a leg over his horse’s flank and was surreptitiously sliding over its side to touch both feet on the ground.

They were in a tight spot. The narrowness of the path meant that the only way to get to Steve – and vice-versa – was through the manticore. They couldn’t escape back down the path without leaving him behind.

They heard a clang and a clatter as Steve’s horse bolted. The manticore swung round to face Steve once again, and Steve was left defending himself against the beast armed only with the first thing he could grab from his horse – their cooking pot.

“That’s just great,” said Tony, now facing the vicious-looking tail.

Steve tossed the cooking-pot from one hand to the other, and while the manticore’s gaze followed the blackened metal, Tony reached within his cloak to draw his short sword, and Bruce did likewise.

With a cry, Steve suddenly threw himself at the manticore, crashing the heavy pot into the side of its head. As he did so, the manticore let out a startled hiss, and several of the spikes exploded from the end of its tail.

“No!” yelled Tony, as the first of the spikes embedded itself into his horse’s chest. As his horse collapsed onto its knees, a second spike whizzed past his ear, and with a start, Tony realised that it was only his horse’s injury that had prevented him from getting a spike to his head.

“No!” yelled Bruce, looking over at Tony with an expression of pure terror. He vaulted from his horse and ran over to him, while the manticore’s tail still twitched.

While Tony struggled to free himself from his dying horse, Steve hit blow after blow to the head of the manticore, and eventually, it shuddered and lay still.

“Your sword, Bruce, quickly,” said Steve.

Bruce slid it along the ground, and seconds later, they heard a sickening swish as Steve killed the manticore.

“Well, that could have been worse,” said Tony, sliding first to his knees and then over onto one side to lie on the ground.

“Tony, lie still,” said Bruce, holding out a hand towards him.

“Is he okay?” asked Steve, rushing over to Tony’s side.

“I’m fine,” said Tony. “Just a little winded, is all.”

Tony’s horse let out a small whinny, and died.

“Tony, you’re not,” said Bruce, and Tony was surprised to see that there were tears in his eyes.

“Stop your fussing,” said Tony. Finally, he followed Bruce’s gaze to a manticore spine, firmly embedded in his chest. “Ah, crap,” he said, and passed out.

When Tony came to, it was night time. He lay by a camp fire, Steve seated on one side and Bruce on the other.

“How long was I out?” he asked.

“A few hours,” said Bruce. “We’ve set up camp just off the road. The horses and the mule are just over there,” he pointed. “We only lost the one.”

“Okay,” said Tony.

“We dragged your horse and the remains of the manticore as far away as we could,” said Steve. “No idea what the smell of all that blood might bring.”

“Yeah,” said Tony. “Good work.”

Bruce put a hand to Tony’s chest. “You though, Tony.”

Tony put his hand over Bruce’s. “You got it out?”

“Yes, well,” said Bruce, looking over at Steve. They both looked worried.

“So?” said Tony.

“It’s bad,” said Bruce. “Those spines are poisonous. We got it out, and I cleaned up the wound, but we really don’t know just how much damage it’s done. That wound – it’s deep.”

“There may be bits of it left behind,” said Steve.

“There were fragments of the spine still in there,” Bruce clarified. “I got as much out as I could, but it was getting dark by the time I finished. I don’t know if I got them all.”

“Sweet,” said Tony, and coughed.

“Try to lie still,” said Steve, and Tony pulled a face. “Bruce reckons we’re only a couple of miles from Megala Kalubia, so we’ll try to get there at first light. We can rest up there.”

“Right.”

Tony squeezed Bruce’s hand. “I’m actually feeling okay,” he said.

Bruce chuckled. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said.

“Bruce and I are going to take it in turns to watch tonight,” said Steve. “It’s probably best if you try to get some sleep.”

“There’s a poultice on the wound, and the herbal mixture I’ve used is pretty strong,” said Bruce. “You may feel a little light-headed. Just let me know if the pain gets worse, okay?”

“Okay,” said Tony.

He clasped Bruce’s hand against his chest. The last thing Tony saw before he drifted off to sleep was Steve staring stalwartly out into the dark.

***

Tony awoke with a start, wondering what could possibly have awakened him, before the sudden realisation that he was in pain. At his side, Bruce dozed fitfully. By the trees, Steve gazed rigidly into space.

“Oh, they won’t wake,” whispered a sultry voice. “And you, my friend, won’t remember any of this.”

Tony lifted his head as much as he dared. On the other side of the campfire crouched a young boy with a pointed chin and shoulder-length black hair. He looked to be about ten years old. “Well, isn’t this a pretty picture,” he said, and his dark eyes glittered with a knowledge far beyond his years.

The boy rose to his feet and walked towards him. He knelt down on the side opposite Bruce, and sensuously ran a hand across Tony’s damaged chest.

“You place me in a difficult position,” the boy said. “You see, I simply can’t permit you to die. Right now, that is. You’re far too necessary to my plan. Here, let me help.” He twisted his hand so that the fingers formed a rigid spear, and pressed them down hard against Tony’s chest.

Tony wheezed and curled in upon himself, the pain intense, every muscle in his body screaming.

“Oh, I am sorry,” said the boy. “Did that hurt?”

“Who are you?” croaked Tony.

“I am Loki Erechtheus of Olympus,” said the boy. “And your deliciously upstanding friend over there,” he gestured towards Steve, “had the great misfortune to rescue me as a baby. Not that he is aware of that, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” said Tony.

“Now, if you would only hold still for a moment.”

“I have a choice?” said Tony.

“Quite,” said Loki, and smiled. With his other hand, he reached into his tunic, and removed a small blue cube. He held it up, and it glowed with an unearthly light brighter than the dying embers of the fire.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?”

“What is it?” asked Tony.

“Actually, it’s a dice,” said Loki. “But more than that, it holds Olympian magic, and its power will prevent the manticore venom from taking hold. Its energies will attract the fragments of the spine and stop them from entering your heart. So, you see, Tony Stark,” Loki leaned in close and grinned a wide, snake-like grin. “You really do owe me.”

Tony rolled his eyes, and with that, Loki tore the dressing from Tony’s wound, and plunged the cube deep into his chest.

***

The next time Tony awoke, it was dawn, and Steve and Bruce were having a difficult conversation.

“So, he doesn’t?” whispered Steve.

“No,” said Bruce.

“And you’re not?” said Steve.

Bruce sighed. “No. We’ve been friends for a very long time, but that’s it. And he doesn’t expect that from you. He doesn’t expect anything from you other than that you do a good job.”

“Huh,” said Steve. “I could’ve sworn it.”

“Well, there you go. That’s Tony for you. He does this whole flirting thing with his eyes and doesn’t realise it. Just ask his wife.”

“Pepper, right?”

“Right,” said Bruce. He paused. “But I should warn you, since you’re going to be staying with us. There’s isn’t a conventional relationship.”

“I gathered that when you said she ran his business,” said Steve.

“There’s more to it than that, but it’s not my story to tell. It’s complicated,” said Bruce.

“Right, sorry,” said Steve.

There was another pause.

“I don’t know if Tony mentioned it, but we met someone you used to know in Athens. She was the person who told us where to find you, actually,” said Bruce.

“Who?” asked Steve.

“Peggy.”

There was a sharp intake of breath. “She’s alive?” said Steve.

“She’s still very much alive. Thriving, even.”

“Wow,” said Steve. “I. I didn’t dare hope.”

“Maybe we should go see her when we get back?” said Bruce.

“Yeah. Or just me. Maybe.”

Tony coughed, and Steve and Bruce instantly turned around.

“Hey! You’re awake,” said Bruce. “How are you feeling?”

Tony’s hand went to his chest and rubbed the surface of his dressing. “Actually, okay,” he said.

“Any pain?” asked Bruce.

“Not really.” Tony frowned. “Actually, really no pain.”

Bruce’s expression said that he didn’t believe a word of it.

“Those must be some herbs you used,” said Steve.

“Maybe,” said Bruce.

“I guess you got all of that spine out after all,” said Tony.

“Possibly,” said Bruce, frowning. “I’d like to examine you thoroughly later, though.”

Tony waggled his eyebrows and Bruce raised an eyebrow in return.

“Hmm. Maybe you are feeling a little better,” said Bruce. “But I am still concerned about this wound. Very. Those spines can be lethal, and the wound could be infected. We’re going to have to be really careful. And we might need to see about getting a messenger back to Athens. We may not be returning for several weeks yet.” The unspoken implication was that there was a chance they would not be returning at all.

“In the mean time, let’s see if we can get you sitting up. If you can manage that, we can try to make it to Megala Kalubia,” said Bruce. “I think that’ll be faster than trying to fetch a cart for you.”

“Okay,” said Tony.

“But I’m warning you, Tony. If it looks like your wound is going to open up, or you are going to be in too much pain to make the journey, we’re staying put right here, and I’ll send Steve on alone to find a doctor.”

Tony raised his hands. “Okay.” He smiled. “Did anyone tell you you’re actually pretty hot when you’re bossy?”

Bruce pulled a face and sighed.

Bruce and Steve positioned themselves behind Tony, and very slowly and carefully raised him up to a seated position. Tony tensed himself, expecting to be in agony at any second, but all he felt was a dull, throbbing ache.

“Tony?” asked Bruce.

“I’m fine,” said Tony.

“Do you think you can stay sitting up for a little while? While we get breakfast?”

“I’ll try.”

Tony propped himself up against one of their bags as Steve busied himself making breakfast and Bruce packed up the rest of their things. Tony sighed, exasperated at Bruce and Steve’s frequent concerned glances. “I’m okay,” he said.

They ate breakfast in silence, punctuated with more furtive glances from Bruce and Steve. “Quit it, you two,” said Tony, running a hand across the surface of his dressing. “You’re making me paranoid.”

Bruce and Steve loaded up the horses, and then tried various ways to lift Tony into a standing position. This time, Tony felt the wound quite sharply, and hissed and cried out several times as they levered, rolled and manipulated him so he wouldn’t put pressure on the muscles in his chest. Eventually, with Bruce standing in front of him and holding Tony’s arms tight against his sides, and Steve standing behind him and essentially scooping him up by the buttocks, they got Tony to stand.

He laughed and chuckled into Bruce’s chest as he finally slumped against him.

“Let me just get a look at this,” said Bruce, levering Tony off of him so he could check Tony’s dressing.

“How is it?” asked Steve.

“It’s okay,” said Bruce, with relief. “There’s no blood coming through the dressing. Tony?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

By still more levering and manhandling, they persuaded Tony into the saddle of the mule. She had seemed like a better prospect for the next part of the journey, being that bit closer to the ground than the horses. When they finally had Tony back in a seated, mounted position, all three of them were soaked in sweat and gritty with dirt, and the sun was much higher in the sky. They then did something Tony really didn’t approve of, and strapped him to the tall pack attached immediately behind the mule’s saddle in an attempt to keep him stable for the journey.

The two short miles to Megala Kalubia seemed to take forever. The day had warmed considerably since they had woken. Sweat streamed down into Tony’s eyes and he was unable to wipe it away. The pain in his chest was a dull, throbbing ache now; a constant reminder that his body was protesting. He tried hard to keep still. He tried especially hard not to cough.

Tony only realised that he had been drifting when Steve and Bruce drew their horses to a stop. He opened his eyes to find that they were at a crossroads of a small town. They pulled over to the side of the road and Steve went to find some lodgings. Within twenty minutes they were safely settled in a large room, with the horses and mule tucked away in a stable.

Bruce sent for some boiled water and carefully removed the dressing on Tony’s chest. Tony heard his sharp intake of breath.

“How is it?” he asked.

“It’s… well, see for yourself,” said Bruce. He pulled away at the remnants of the dressing and Tony looked down. Instead of a gaping wound, Tony saw a smooth, perfectly circular mark: the fragile white skin of a healing wound that had been starved of air. Its colour stood out in stark contrast to the rest of his chest. Tony’s first instinct was to touch it.

“Don’t!” said Bruce, but it was too late.

Tony cautiously ran a hand over the surface of the mark, and felt his pain intensify slightly. Still, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t cope with, and it certainly was far better than he’d been expecting.

The door swung open and Steve froze in the doorway, a bowl of steaming water in his hands, fresh linen slung over his shoulder. “Oh, my,” he said. He walked over to the bed and put the bowl down beside it.

As Tony moved his hand away and looked Steve squarely in the eye, Bruce took the opportunity to reach out and touch the mark. “It’s cold,” he said.

“It’s remarkable,” said Steve.

“Thanks. I work out,” said Tony.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Well, you are obviously feeling better,” said Bruce. “I don’t know how this happened, and trust me, I intend to find out, but I’m certainly not going to complain. Let me clean this up and re-dress it.”

“But…”

“No arguments, Tony. Let me re-dress it, and then I want you to rest.”

“But…”

“And if you complain, trust me, I WILL tell Pepper.”

“Right,” said Tony.

They spent the next five days at Megala Kalubia, which, as far as Tony was concerned, was five days too many. He spent his time in bed drawing up plans for his new automaton. His previous idea had been abandoned, and he now insisted on combining his skill with Steve’s, to build a moving sculpture for the new temple of Athena Nike. Steve frequently sat by his side, offering suggestions for how to combine the metal parts with sculpted stone. On the third day, Bruce finally deemed Tony recovered enough to get up and walk around, which Tony celebrated by doing a little dance, then running down the stairs and out into the street.

By the time they set off again on their journey, Tony’s wound was a shiny white circle, not much bigger than a large coin. It glowed faintly blue in the moonlight. Tony tried not to notice.

They travelled slowly and carefully, alert to danger. Just outside Theologos, Tony thought he saw a party of bandits high on the cliffs nearby, but by the time he’d alerted Steve and Bruce they’d vanished, and all Tony could see was a flash of green and gold among the undergrowth.

They finally made it back to Athens eighteen days after leaving Dodona. Approaching the city from the north, they skirted round Hymettos hill and past graveyards and the stone-masons’ workshops, the air full of dust and their ears full of the sounds of chisel blows.

Tony noticed Steve glancing down side-streets as they passed and wondered if Steve was going to suggest a detour.

“This part of the city looks more or less the same,” Steve said. “Down there, there used to be a decent baker. And up there, a good wine shop.”

Tony nodded. “I think the Persians left this bit more or less untouched. There wasn’t much here for them to take. The centre of the city was damaged the most. Just, prepare yourself for some changes, okay?”

“Yeah,” said Steve. “But still, I’d like to set up shop here again. You never know, there may be other people who still remember me. Or maybe their children do. And Peggy’s still here.” Steve looked to Tony for confirmation.

“Yeah,” said Tony. He was spared from elaborating as the vista opened up before them to reveal the Panathenaic Way.

“Whoa!” said Steve. “I see what you mean.”

What had once been modest houses lining a wide road was now an ostentatious thoroughfare, flanked by large houses and gleaming marble. It was impressive, but not particularly friendly. Needless to say, Tony’s house, situated in the shadow of the Acropolis, was one of the most ostentatious of the lot. Bruce always felt the need to apologise on Tony’s behalf.

As they approached Tony’s house, Steve looked over at him, eyebrows raised. “Well, this is… nice,” he said.

“I’ve got an apartment round the back,” said Bruce.

“What he means to say is that he has hogged the nicest rooms closest to the courtyard,” said Tony, smiling.

As they reached the front entrance, Tony’s servant Iarphis emerged and they handed the reins of their animals to him.

“Thanks,” said Steve, but frowned when the servant didn’t reply.

“He’s mute,” said Tony. “And I wouldn’t trust any servant more than I trust him.”

Iarphis smiled and nodded, and led the animals away.

“He looks familiar,” said Steve. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

“He’s been with the family since he was a boy, so.”

“I’ve met him,” said Steve, momentarily stunned. “A long time ago. He never used to be bald.”

Tony coughed and broke the difficult silence. “We’ll put you in the guest rooms on the East side,” said Tony. “I tend to avoid the early morning sun.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” asked Steve, for the third time that day.

Tony rolled his eyes.

“It’s best just to accept these things,” said Bruce. “If you refuse, he’ll try to build you a house.”

A woman’s voice rang out from above them. “Tony!” cried Pepper, waving. She ran down the stairs to greet them, stopping just short of Tony. They grasped each other’s arms affectionately.

“Bruce,” Pepper said, acknowledging him. “And who is your friend?”

Steve dipped his head and stepped forward.

“This is the man we set off to find,” said Tony.

“No, really?” asked Pepper, stretching out her hand towards him. “But you’re so young!” The tips of Steve’s ears turned pink.

“It’s true,” said Bruce. “This is our sculptor.”

“It’s a long story,” said Steve.

“They generally are, where Tony’s concerned,” said Pepper, smiling. “I’m sure I’ll hear all about it later.”

“Steve Rogers, this is my wife, Pepper,” said Tony.

“Nice to meet you,” Steve said.

Pepper smiled. “I’ll organise refreshments, and Tony, come find me later.” She nodded to them, and headed towards the kitchens.

“She seems nice,” said Steve.

“She is,” said Tony, simply. Bruce nodded in agreement.

Tony led Steve to his new quarters, with Bruce trailing along after them. By the time Steve had seen the house, Pepper had returned to the vestibule, and there was refreshments waiting for them.

“We’ll head back to the Kerameikos tomorrow,” said Tony, “see about renting you some workshop space. I mean, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” said Steve.

“Speaking of building work,” said Pepper, “Ampelios has been by almost every day, looking for you. Apparently, you’re about a month late with your plans for the Acropolis project.”

Tony sighed. “Well, we have plans. Great big ones. So he can suck on that.”

Pepper looked from Tony to Bruce for confirmation. When Bruce nodded, Pepper turned her gaze on Steve.

“Honestly, Pep. We know what we’re doing. We’re collaborating on this, and it’s going to be amazing,” said Tony.

“It’s been kind of hard to get him to shut up about it,” said Steve.

Pepper smiled.

They had, in all honesty, spent a good many hours sitting around campfires, discussing their plans. As each evening wore on and the wine went down, their plans took on mythical and most likely improbable proportions.

“Steve is going to work on the temple, and the statue. Which will be amazing,” said Tony, gesturing in his direction.

Steve looked a little abashed.

“And I, dear Pepper, will turn the statue into an automaton. So not only will this be an amazing Athena Nike, she will also MOVE.” Tony looked at Pepper as if daring her to contradict him.

“And is Bruce involved in the creation of this masterpiece?” asked Pepper.

“Ah, this is the best bit,” said Tony. He reached over and ruffled Bruce’s hair. “This little ragamuffin, Pepper, is going to figure out a way to make the goddamn statue TALK. We are going to have our own oracle.”

Bruce coughed. In truth, they had discussed this, but only after a great deal of wine, and Bruce didn’t think for one moment that Tony was serious about it. He should have known better.

“Seriously?” asked Pepper.

Bruce shrugged his shoulders and nodded at the same time, which somehow managed to convey the message ‘maybe’.

“You’re going to have a walking, talking, statue of Athena Nike, standing at the entrance to the Acropolis?” said Pepper.

“Yup,” said Tony. “Ampelios is going to piss himself.”

Pepper sighed.

***

Word of their return spread like wildfire. By the following morning, the street outside Tony’s house was clogged with people who wanted to catch a glimpse of the hero who would enable Athena Nike to speak to her people. And by hero, of course, they meant Steve.

At the front of the crowd and somehow a little separate from it stood Peggy.

“Oh, fuck,” said Tony.

Steve stepped silently past Tony and down the steps. From the second he laid eyes on her, it was clear he only had eyes for Peggy. Their words drifted up to Tony.

“Hey,” said Steve, reaching out to touch Peggy’s face.

“Hi. It’s really you.”

“It’s really me.”

“I thought you died,” said Peggy.

“I’m sorry,” said Steve.

“I’m sorry,” said Peggy.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” said Steve.

“I got so old,” said Peggy.

“No you didn’t.”

“Liar.”

They smiled at each other.

“You’re beautiful,” said Steve.

“Liar,” said Peggy again, softly.

“Peggy,” said Steve, equally soft, “your life is written on your face. And it’s beautiful.”

As they fell into each other’s arms, Tony turned on his heels and walked back up the steps into his house. He went straight to his workshop, and immersed himself in his work.

His mood had lightened several hours later, when Bruce came to visit him, bearing lunch. In between bites of bread and cheese, Tony took a rare opportunity to rail at the world and its injustices.

“Has he gone off with her?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Bruce. “He said he’ll be back later. They’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“That’s an understatement,” said Tony.

“I’m pleased for them. Really pleased,” said Bruce.

“Oh, I am too,” said Tony, and shrugged.

“I can tell,” said Bruce, sarcastically.

“No, honestly,” said Tony.

“Hmm.”

“I’m glad that one of us gets to have what we want.”

“Tony,” said Bruce.

“It’s okay,” said Tony.

“It’s not,” said Bruce.

Tony reached out a hand to Bruce, who took it, and pulled him into a hug.

“Don’t,” said Tony, but he put his arms round Bruce anyway.

“Don’t be bitter,” said Bruce, and pressed his face in close against Tony’s neck. Tony could almost imagine that he felt Bruce’s lips caress his neck.

“You’re going to get covered in oil,” said Tony.

Tony felt Bruce smile into the crook of his neck, and he held him tighter.

The moment seemed to pass, and Bruce stepped away.

***

The next two weeks brought many changes. Steve quickly acquired a new workshop, and wasted no time in buying equipment and materials to fill it. He spent the days there and with Peggy, and came back to Tony’s house in the evenings, full of enthusiasm and covered in marble dust. The three of them took regular trips up to the Acropolis, where Ampelios tried his best to make his own mark on their project. The temple of Athena Nike itself was to be a small, understated affair (which Ampelios heartily disapproved of), situated on a rocky promontory. It was to have a row of fluted columns at the front and back, and carved porticos depicting Athens’ victory over the Persians. Nothing was to detract from the statue of Athena Nike herself: an eight foot high representation of the goddess, who was to stand, arm outstretched, in front of the sacrificial altar.

Tony worked like a demon on the chassis of his automaton. The work pushed his knowledge of mechanics to its limit. Occasionally, Steve brought him sample pieces of work: curved stone panels drilled with tiny holes, which were to serve as the mounting points to attach the stone to the automaton’s skeleton.

The only person who did not seem to be enjoying his work was Bruce. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t find out how the leaves worked. Tony found him late one night, standing outside in their courtyard, gazing up into the clear and cool night air.

“Hey,” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Tony.”

Tony’s arm slipped around him. “I’m usually the only one up this late.”

“Yeah, well,” said Bruce, shrugging.

“Problem?”

“I can’t get it to work,” said Bruce, simply.

Tony gestured to a nearby bench, beside a small pool. They sat side by side, and Bruce leaned against him.

“The longer I work on this, Tony, the more questions I have. The more experiments I do, the fewer leaves I have left.”

Tony put an arm round Bruce’s shoulder again. A thought struck him. “The oracle at Dodona. Is this something you can get all year round?”

“Yes, of course. Why?”

“Well, that’s something at least. It means the leaves don’t have to be fresh or alive to work.”

“I thought of that,” said Bruce. “But now I’m worried that it’s more to do with the trees and the land than the leaves themselves. And I’m worried that I may need to be a priest to actually get this to work.”

Tony ignored Bruce’s second idea. “Have you found any difference between the leaves collected close to the shrine and those collected further away?”

“There is something, but I don’t know what. Some chemical that occurs in greater concentrations in the leaves taken from closest to the shrine. But I’m worried that I’m going to run out of leaves. And I still haven’t managed to duplicate what we saw at the shrine – with the leaves transmitting any form of message.”

Tony kept silent. He knew full well from his own work that telling someone not to worry about it or trying to convince them that it’d all be alright in the end would be absolutely no help whatsoever.

“There’s something else though, Tony,” said Bruce. “I think… I think the compound in the leaves is affecting me somehow.”

“What do you mean?

“I. I didn’t want to say anything, but, well. I think I might be hallucinating.”

“That might also have a lot to do with the sort of hours you’ve been working,” said Tony.

“I don’t think so. Not this time,” said Bruce.

“Why?”

“It’s very specific. Like I can see something green. A green shape.”

“Well, maybe that’s what the priests see at Dodona. Maybe you’re actually onto something.”

“We can but hope,” said Bruce.

Tony paused. “I have an idea.”

Bruce pulled away from Tony so he could look him in the eye. “Okay.”

“The messages only occur when the leaves shake, right? Though what causes the shaking, we don’t know?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, how have you been doing that?” asked Tony.

Bruce looked a little shame-faced. “Shaking them?”

“Let me get this right,” said Tony. “You’ve been standing in your lab, holding some leaves in your hands and just shaking them?”

“There’s been a little more to it than that,” said Bruce, but he cracked a smile. “I’ve been talking to them as well.”

“I wish you’d told me earlier,” said Tony. “I would have liked to watch.”

“Jerk,” said Bruce, fondly.

“Here’s a thought,” said Tony. “How about I rig something up that mimics a breeze? Holds the leaves in place without you having to hold them? It could be like... a voice box.”

“Yeah,” said Bruce. “Okay. It’s got to be worth a shot. Thanks.” He leaned forward, and without thinking about it, lightly kissed Tony on the cheek. They instantly both froze.

“Sorry,” said Bruce, instantly mortified and getting to his feet. “Forget I did that. I must be more tired than I thought. I’m really sorry.”

Tony recovered his composure first. “Don’t worry about it.” He waved a hand.

“If you’ll just excuse me.” Bruce scurried away.

“Yup,” said Tony. “It’s like Delphi all over again.” He sighed.

***

Loki emerged from the shadows and walked to the foot of the makeshift bed that Bruce kept in his lab. For several minutes, he watched Bruce sleep, tossing and turning and clawing at his blanket. He quickly grew bored and looked for something else to amuse himself. His youth meant that he was not yet tall enough to see everything in the room at a glance, and so he walked up and down the tables cluttering the space, running his hands over everything that took his fancy. Eventually, he found Bruce’s supply of oak leaves from Dodona, and the equipment that Bruce had been using to conduct his experiments on them.

“Disappointing,” Loki said to no one in particular. “This is taking far too long. I can see that I’m going to have to speed things along a little.” He reached inside his tunic and pulled out a small wooden object: a spindle. “Mother won’t miss this, I’m sure,” he said.

He rolled the spindle between his palms, and fine golden threads spun out of it and onto the leaves below. As the threads touched the leaves, they became beams of light, which then vanished.

“Yes, that should do it,” Loki said, stepping back to admire his work. He put the spindle back in his tunic, and strode back towards the corner he’d appeared from. On his way past Bruce’s bed, he tweaked a foot that was sticking out from beneath the covers. When he reached the corner, he turned in the air and vanished.

Bruce snored loudly once, then settled down into a calm and dreamless sleep.

***

“Steve! Glad you could make it,” said Tony, welcoming Steve into his home.

“Hi,” said Steve. “Evening, Iarphis,” he added, nodding towards the silent servant who stepped forward to take Steve’s cloak. Iarphis nodded back in greeting.

“You’re looking well,” said Tony, not bothering to hide his gaze.

“Thanks,” said Steve.

Several months of working with stone had turned Steve’s already muscular figure into something that half of Athens found distracting. No matter what the finished temple was like, Tony was certain that Steve would never be short of work. Trying to get a glimpse of Steve in the act of sculpting was fast becoming a spectator sport. Steve’s relationship with Peggy was also the subject of wild rumour and ferocious gossip. Frightened that she might be in danger from accusations of witchcraft or underhand magic, Steve had eventually asked Tony for assistance, and Peggy had moved into her own small, secure home that very night. Tony couldn’t see that situation lasting for long. It was clear from several conversations they’d had that Steve had another arrangement in mind.

“Want to come through to the workshop?” Tony asked.

“Naturally,” said Steve.

“We’ve had a few problems with the pipe work, but I’m pretty sure they’re all sorted now,” said Tony.

“Well, okay,” said Steve. “Your suggestion about using lead worked, by the way. I fit those support beams to the back piece with no problem. I can’t wait to see the finished statue.”

“Nor can I,” said Tony, raising an eyebrow. “When are you going to show us what she looks like?”

Steve smiled enigmatically, and walked past Tony into Tony’s workshop. “Not until the unveiling,” he said, then laughed. “Speaking of unveiling....”

Bruce stood next to a large object covered with a sheet. “This is about as subtle as Tony gets when it comes to suspense,” Bruce said.

“Do you want to do the honours, Bruce?” said Tony.

With a flourish, Bruce pulled the sheet off of the object. To the untrained eye, what was revealed looked like nothing more than a mess of metal tubes and plates; a weird combination of plain flat surfaces and complicated curled structures.

“Bruce says she’ll look prettier with her drawers on, but I think she’s lovely just the way she is.”

Steve chuckled, and approached the structure.

“Do you want to manipulate the arms for me, Bruce?” said Tony.

“Sure,” said Bruce. He pulled at struts on either side of the object, and they stood out and away from the main body.

“She won’t have that much movement once the marble facing is on,” said Steve.

“That’s fine,” said Tony. “Perfect, even.”

What would become the head of Athena was currently a bulbous metal rod ending in a T-bar dotted with holes. The shoulder joints were round and bronze, and out of proportion to the rest of the figure. Inside the chest cavity was a complicated-looking valve, and the area below the waist appeared to be little more than a tapered pyramid.

“She should have built up a good head of steam by now,” said Tony, noticing a thin trickle of smoke exuding from the base of the statue. “Want to see her in action?”

“Sure,” said Steve.

“Bruce, Steve, go stand over by the door. Just in case, you know, she explodes or something.”

Tony walked round to the back of the structure and pulled on a lever. There was a hissing of steam, and gradually, Athena’s left arm rose. The position of the arm suggested that she might be pointing a finger in Steve’s direction.

“When the stone facing is on, the weight of it will drive the arm back down once it gets past a certain point,” said Tony. “Until then,” he said, and pressed down on the arm. There was a click from the vicinity of the statue’s chest, and a hole that had been on one side of the chest valve was moved to the other side.

“The same thing’ll happen on this side,” said Tony, as Athena’s right arm gradually raised. “The sword will slot in there,” said Tony, indicating a place in the right hand. Athena was generally depicted with a range of objects, and in this case, they’d decided to place a sword in her right hand, with her left hand resting on her shield when the device was not in use.

“I still think the most ingenious thing is the triple valve,” said Bruce.

“You’re not wrong,” said Tony. He clicked the statue’s right arm back into place, and the valve in her chest moved again. A thin wisp of steam issued from a tube in the centre of the statue’s face, and it made a whispering sound.

“When we’re up and running properly, she should talk at this point,” said Tony. “We’re still working on the voice box.”

“I’m just being cautious,” said Bruce. “We have a limited number of leaves to work with.”

“Wait,” said Steve, “are you saying that you’ve actually got it to speak?”

“Kinda, yeah,” said Tony.

“In a manner of speaking,” said Bruce.

“He’s being modest,” said Tony. “It’s definitely speaking. We just can’t work out what it’s saying yet.”

“We figured out that the leaves at Dodona work when they vibrate at a certain speed, and that speed is the speed of the breeze in the sanctuary. Which is apparently remarkably consistent,” said Bruce. “We’re just having a problem replicating that breeze.”

“It works best with the leaves from closest to the shrine, so there’s something chemical going on there too,” said Tony.

“I suppose,” said Steve, “that as long as you can get it to work, you don’t really need to know how it does it.”

Tony and Bruce frowned in unison.

“Hmm,” said Bruce. “Ignoring that comment for now, we’re certain that it’s a combination of the chemicals in the leaves and the action of the breeze that enable Athena to provide us with oracles, should she wish it.”

“Worst case scenario, I’ll just make the old girl whistle instead,” said Tony.

“You’re going to Hades, Tony, you know that,” Bruce sighed.

Tony shrugged. “Anyway, the firebox in this thing isn’t that big. I reckon we can only work up enough steam for one set of actions per load of fuel, to be on the safe side.” He moved the vent at the back of the sculpture again, up and then down, and the excess steam was released before a sudden lack of oxygen extinguished the fire within.

“In practical terms, that means one oracle a day,” said Bruce. “We can’t have Athena venting steam all day long.”

“And we don’t want anyone to see how it works, so no one can see her getting fuelled up,” said Steve. “Let’s try and keep and air of mystique around this.”

“Agreed,” said Tony. “I’m thinking of hiring someone to stoke her up first thing in the morning.”

“Someone we can trust to keep quiet about it,” said Bruce.

“Well, there’s always Iarphis,” said Steve. “I mean, if he isn’t too busy making your breakfast.”

Tony and Bruce shot each other questioning glances.

“Moving on,” said Steve, hiding a smile. “At least the steam vents are pretty unobtrusive.” He gestured towards the T-bar at the top of the statue’s head: a shape that would be incorporated into Athena’s head-dress.

“It wasn’t Tony’s first choice,” said Bruce, casting a severe look in Tony’s direction.

Tony grinned.

“So how goes it at the temple? We’ve not been up there for about a week,” said Bruce.

“Fine,” said Steve. “I’ve hired a couple of extra men to do the basic chipping and squaring up of stone, and my first apprentice now has enough experience that I can trust him with some of the initial work on the columns. It’s actually going pretty well.”

“And the rest?” said Bruce.

“Well, I have the designs for the friezes down. I switch between working on those and working on the panels for the statue. It’s actually coming together pretty fast. Give it another month and the main structure will be in place and we can start on the interior.”

“Good work. While I think of it, here’s this week’s wages,” said Bruce, handing Steve a small leather bag full of coins.

“Thanks,” said Steve. “Much appreciated. While I think of it, though, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you both.”

“Sure, Steve. Anything. Just name it,” said Tony.

“Well, it’s just... now it looks like we can pretty much set a date that this work will be finished...” Steve stalled, then tried again. “I, er, I’m getting married. And I’d like you both to be there.”

“That’s fabulous news,” said Bruce.

“Yeah, congratulations! Of course we’ll be there,” said Tony.

Steve smiled. “It was a bit of a worry at first, you know? I couldn’t work out why she’d be interested in a guy like me. Thought she’d have moved on, changed too much. But there you go.”

Tony gave Steve a pat on the back. “Well, congratulations, buddy,” he said again. He turned towards the open doorway of his workshop and yelled, “Hey, Pepper! Pepper, get down here!”

“We’ll definitely be there. Just let us know when and where,” said Bruce.

There was a muffled thud from somewhere else in the house, followed by some cursing.

“What is it?” Pepper’s voice floated down to them.

“Get down here, Pepper!” said Tony. “You want a party? We can totally throw you a party.”

“Er...,” said Steve.

Pepper poked her head around the door frame. “What is it, Tony, I’m kind of busy right now.”

“Get in here,” said Tony.

Pepper sighed and walked into the room. All three men were momentarily startled by her unusually ruffled appearance.

“Oh, shoot, sorry Pep. Was that tonight?” said Tony.

“Yes, of course that was tonight. It’s always this night,” snapped Pepper. “Now tell me, what was so important?”

“I’m getting married,” said Steve, jumping right in to what promised to be a difficult silence.

The change in Pepper’s expression was instantaneous and dramatic. “Oh, congratulations, Steve,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. “Peggy?”

“Yes, of course, Peggy,” said Tony.

Pepper ignored Tony, and carried on smiling at Steve.

“Can you come along to the celebration? We’re going to hold it as soon as we finish up the work here. It’d be great if you were there,” said Steve.

“I’d love to,” said Pepper.

There was the sound of footsteps across the hallway outside.

“Is she still here?” Tony whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Pepper continued to ignore Tony and slipped her arms down from Steve’s shoulders until she was holding his hands. “Congratulations again,” she said. “We’ll be there.” She let go of Steve’s hands, turned on her heels and left the room. As she passed through the doorway, she waved at Tony, and they heard hushed female voices moving back into the furthest recesses of the house.

“Could’ve told you she had company tonight. If you’d asked,” said Bruce.

Tony sighed, turning to Steve and pretending he hadn’t heard Bruce. “You’re going to let us throw you a party after the wedding, aren’t you?”

“Tony,” said Bruce, with a warning tone in his voice.

“Actually,” said Steve, rubbing the back of his head, “Peggy’s looking forward to having the feast at her place. She’s not had a chance to have people round yet. And it is kind of traditional.”

“Right, okay,” said Tony. “If you’re sure.”

“But if you really want to help out?”

“Anything,” said Tony.

“We’re inviting everyone that’s worked on the temple, plus Peggy’s family. We’re gonna need a lot of wine,” said Steve.

“That, I can do,” said Tony.

***

Work continued smoothly for the next few weeks. The metal skeleton for the statue was completed and stood temporarily forgotten in Tony’s lab while he helped Bruce work on the voice box. With assistance from an army of workers, Steve completed the main structure of the temple and contracted the internal decoration out to skilled painters while he painstakingly constructed the head and hands of his statue. This delicate work required periods of intense concentration, partly because he had to regularly measure and re-measure each piece to ensure that it would still fit onto the metal skeleton.

Pepper and Bruce continued to manage and administer Tony’s businesses. Life for most of them continued much the way it had before, with two changes. Steve’s new confidence due to his impending wedding seemed to somehow seep into all of their lives, and within Tony, it felt as if a dam was breaking. He hated thinking about relationships, he really did. Feelings were equally hard. But it seemed as if his brain would let him think about nothing else right now. Over the years he had come to terms with the fact that he would never be able to have what he wanted, or at least he thought he had. He’d hidden everything under layers of work; submerged himself in the joy of discovery instead. And he was happy, mostly. He certainly did all he could to make sure the people around him were happy, and that had to count for something, right? But Pepper was allowed her thing with her mysterious woman, and Steve was allowed his thing with Peggy, no matter how taboo or odd society seemed to think those things were.

So, Tony sat alone late one evening, glass of wine beside him, rubbing a thumb idly across the small, circular scar on his chest. As the sun went down behind the hills in the distance, he decided something. He decided that maybe he was allowed his thing too. Or if not that, something a little bit closer to it.

He started small. Plausible deniability: that was the way. A touch here, a glance there. A friendly pat on the back became a lingering hand. Where once he would have been careful to stay out of Bruce’s personal space, now, Tony pushed the boundaries; trusting in Bruce to give a sign if he overstepped the mark. Where once Tony would have looked away or deflected when Bruce caught his eye, now, he continued looking. Tony noticed things. He noticed how Bruce’s confused expression at Tony’s change in behaviour quickly gave way to surprise then pleasure. He noticed how the lines at the corners of Bruce’s eyes more often showed that he was happy; how a smile from Tony was almost always followed by a smile on Bruce’s own lips.

Tony noticed how Bruce’s eyes roamed his face. Followed the movement of Tony’s hands. How Bruce assessed everything.

They conducted their mutual experiment in changing circumstances without words. Always in private, and never more than either of them were comfortable with. It was a strange cat and mouse game. The outside world still saw Tony as the brash and overconfident businessman they always knew, but at home, he was building a new world, with new rules, and the stakes were high.

And the feelings: once Tony allowed them room in his head, there was no stopping them.

The dam finally burst, of course, in the workshop.

“You know,” said Bruce, gazing fixedly through a magnifying lens at yet another leaf, “we might have to go back to Dodona. We’re certainly going to have to sort out some way to make sure we don’t run out of these things.” He waved one of the sacred oak leaves in Tony’s direction.

Tony, standing next to the metal skeleton of the sculpture which had been building a head of steam for over half an hour was growing impatient. “Just put it in the voice box already,” he said, wiping a hand across his sweaty brow.

Bruce used a pair of tweezers to pick up a rectangular slither of oak leaf, and walked over to join Tony next to the metal skeleton. This close to the statue, steam from the vents seemed to condense on the ceiling of the workshop, the end result being that they were both constantly wreathed in mist, and rained on from above.

“Don’t touch the metal. It’s hot,” said Tony.

“How many times have I done this?” said Bruce. “I get it. Just like the last million times you told me.” He rolled his eyes, then carefully slotted the slither of oak leaf into the statue’s throat.

“Is it in?” asked Tony.

“I don’t know,” sighed Bruce, but his tone was kind. “Don’t touch this, put that in there, is it in.... Yes, Tony. It’s in. You can turn the valve.”

Tony smiled, and adjusted the valve so that the statue would skip past the part of the process where it raised its arms. The machinery hissed and spat.

“I don’t usually get to see the mechanism this close up,” said Bruce. “It really is rather beautiful.”

A gurgling sound from within the structure indicated that pressure was working its way up through the chest cavity and into the fan mechanism in the throat.

“Wish I could do something about the gurgling,” said Tony, frowning. “It’s hardly fitting for such a grand old lady.” He held out his hand near the structure: a substitute for stroking the metalwork – something he did with alarming regularity when the metal was cold.

“What were you just telling me?” said Bruce, reaching out and taking Tony’s hand.

“I wasn’t going to touch it,” said Tony.

Any objection was forgotten as the machine gave a slight whistle and the fan started to rotate. A hissing sound came from the mouth of the statue, followed by something that sounded like ‘ker ker ker’.

“Is that it?” said Bruce. “Is it working?”

Tony released himself from Bruce’s grip and dashed round to the front of the statue, almost directly in line with the steam emanating from the statue’s mouth.

“Ker ker ker ther ther ther...” said the statue.

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” said Tony. He pulled Bruce close to his side. He could feel the joy of success bubbling up within him. Warm air hissed out at them from the mouth of the statue, and the steam from the vents wreathed them, forming water droplets in their hair.

“The... the.... the...” said the statue.

“Yes,” said Tony.

“The threh... the trk...” the statue spluttered and the fan ground to a halt.

“Come on you monster,” said Tony. With his free hand, he picked up a steel rod from his work bench, and rapped the statue smartly on the side of the neck. As he put the rod down, the fan started to whir again.

“The trick... ster tries... what three... make... thrrrough me... to lies... ther... ther... the city kkk.”

The machine grew silent, but the fan continued to whir.

“Yes!” shouted Tony.

“Is that it?” asked Bruce.

“Yes!” said Tony. “Yes, my beauty.” He moved forward as if to embrace the statue, thought better of planting his face against a hot, steaming pile of metal, and instead, turned and embraced Bruce. There was a fraction of a second before their lips touched when Tony started to panic; to wonder whether this was a spectacularly bad idea. Then his momentum carried him forward, and they were kissing. Kissing slowly, gently and carefully, as steam from the machine drifted down from the ceiling onto them.

“I, er, better get that...” said Tony, and broke away, to release the steam valve on the machine.

He gazed at Bruce from behind the statue.

“Well, er, that was unexpected,” said Bruce.

Tony was, for once, lost for words. They regarded each other carefully for long seconds, and all that could be heard was the tick-tick-tick sound of the metal as it cooled down.

“So, er, the machine works,” said Bruce.

“Yeah!” said Tony. “How about that!” He paused. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” said Bruce. “Do you want to...?”

Tony wasn’t entirely sure what Bruce was asking, but he took a leap of faith, walked over to Bruce and kissed him again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Bruce.

Eventually, they remembered the garbled message that the statue had given them.

“What do you think it means?” said Bruce.

“Who knows?” said Tony. “But it’s working. It’s really working.”

“Is that going to be enough? I mean, is that sort of message going to be good enough?”

“Yes,” said Tony. “Definitely. You know what the messages are like at Dodona. People interpret them so they make sense. And anyway, this will get better, right?”

Bruce nodded cautiously.

“What was it? Trickster, three, through me, lies, city, something? said Tony.

“Yeah.”

“How does that square up against the oracles we received at Dodona?”

“Er, let me think,” said Bruce. “The first one was: ‘This is no trick - stir up, be quick, as guard he stands in wait. Bow down and kneel, lo – kiss his heel, prepare to meet your fate.’”

Oh, hey, nicely remembered,” said Tony. “Well, we did that. Even the gross heel-kissing part.”

“And the second one was: ‘Call out! Call out! He lingers here, behind the shining gate. By power of three, remember Me, this is your natural state.’”

“And we did all that too.”

“Well, yes. Though now I think about it, doesn’t it seem odd that this message also has a ‘trick’ part and a ‘three’ part?” said Bruce.

Tony shrugged. “Not really. The oracle wanted us to work on this statue. We’re still working on it. The whole thing’s a bit of a trick.”

“If you say so,” said Bruce. “Maybe the messages will become clearer when the statue is consecrated? When it’s up on the Acropolis, looking like Athena.”

“Maybe,” said Tony. “Maybe the joints just need a little more lubricating. That jaw mechanism gets stiff after the steam’s been through it a few times.”

“We really are going to have to be careful about who we get to look after this once it’s up on the Acropolis,” said Bruce.

“Oh, and here he goes again,” said Tony. “Just take a minute, Bruce. Enjoy. Bask. We got it to work.” He took Bruce’s hand. “And with a little tinkering, this is going to be the most fantastic thing the world has ever seen.”

A polite cough from the doorway signalled the arrival of Iarphis. He smiled at them in a bemused fashion, placed the tray of drinks he was carrying down on the workbench, and left.

“Let’s go out,” said Tony. “Clean up, go for a walk, go out for dinner. I feel the need to celebrate.”

Now the magnitude of what he’d accomplished was starting to sink in, along with the realisation that he’d somehow managed to declare his feelings to Bruce, Tony could feel his heart tight in his chest. He felt both elated and petrified.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” said Bruce, rubbing the back of his head. “Let me just put these things away, and I’ll come find you.”

Bruce picked up his tweezers, and went to the front of the statue. He removed the shred of oak leaf and placed it in a small wooden box.

“Does it always look like that afterwards?” said Tony.

“Like what? Oh, I see what you mean.”

The leaf sparkled slightly, little green stars flickering across its surface.

“Beautiful,” said Tony, and kissed Bruce again.

***

Two more weeks. Two more glorious weeks, in which Tony and Bruce grew closer; stealing kisses in the workshop, brushing past each other in hallways, touching each other as they unwound at the end of a long day’s work. They worked together. They had always admired each other. And now their relationship was more than that.

Pepper found the situation hilarious, and called them crazy for waiting so long. Steve looked bemused and said nothing, but sent them an intricately-worked pot, decorated with male figures in various imaginative and explicit poses. They put it in the reception area.

Two more weeks, then, the statue was finished. The temple was ready.

They had somewhat rashly decided that the unveiling of the statue, consecration of the temple, and first oracle given by the statue were all to happen on the same day. No one slept in the Stark household the night before the unveiling, primarily because Tony could be really loud when he was trying to avoid thinking about something. At sunrise, he disappeared up off towards the Acropolis, followed by Iarphis pushing a handcart containing everything they’d need to keep the statue fuelled, stoked, and in working order for the rest of the day. For the first time in a long while, Bruce took a leisurely – and quiet – breakfast with Pepper, though the stress they were both experiencing prevented them from enjoying it too much. An hour or so later, they joined Tony and Steve at the Acropolis.

The site was packed with people, and dozens more were walking up the main thoroughfare to join them. Rumours had spread, and the tension in the atmosphere was palpable. People talked in muted voices and wandered round pretending that they weren’t desperately curious about what was under the sheet.

As they came within sight of Tony, he jogged towards them. “He still won’t let me look at it,” he hissed, gesticulating wildly, then pointing an accusing figure in Steve’s direction. His expression and demeanour were full of righteous indignation.

A quick glance in Steve’s direction showed that he was trying to keep his temper in check, and that Tony had an awful lot to do with that. “I said at the unveiling, Tony. You get to see the sculpture at the same time as everything else.”

“You are insane!” said Tony. “Certifiably insane! Come on! Let me check the joints, at least.”

Steve crossed his arms.

“Did you manage to fuel her up?” said Bruce.

“Well, yeah,” said Tony. “But this guy kept nearly all the statue covered the whole time. He is driving me nuts.”

“I’ve let you start the fire, Tony, which is rather more than I wanted,” said Steve. As Tony reached out towards the sheet, Steve slapped the back of his hand. “Leave the sheet as it is so the vent in the back still gets the air,” he said. “There’s no way I’m putting a screen round it now. People will think there’s something wrong.” This rather basic device of a screen to protect the workings of the statue from prying eyes had been deemed the simplest and probably the most effective way to keep the maintenance of the statue secret in the long term.

Tony wiped his greasy hands through his hair and down the front of his best robes. There was a synchronised rolling of eyes from his three closest friends.

“Just, trust me, okay?”said Steve.

Work had stopped on the Acropolis for the few hours it would take to consecrate and open the temple. This was mostly because that part of the hill would be full of visiting dignitaries whose money was being sunk into the other buildings on site. These people had the annoying habit of exploring their own building projects every time they were in the vicinity, and it was considered unlucky to accidentally drop a chisel on your boss. The workmen from the other sites were also justifiably curious about their competition and could be seen lurking around the margins of the site, waiting for the temple to be officially open to the public. Basically, the entire hill was packed full of nosey people.

On balance, Tony thought his current mood was entirely justified. It wasn’t just Steve’s reputation on the line. He walked back to stand between Bruce and Pepper, and, as he often did when they were out in public, briefly placed a hand in the small of Bruce’s back before standing still.

“Do you have a speech?” asked Pepper.

“Of course,” said Tony, looking offended even though they all knew he hadn’t prepared anything. “The leader of the Acropolis committee is going to say something, then I’ll step up and do my thing, and unveil the statue. And see it for the first damn time,” said Tony, who couldn’t resist the temptation to mention that again. He looked over at Bruce. “You worried, big fella?”

Bruce’s expression was tight and guarded. “Petrified,” he said. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“It’ll work,” said Tony, previous mood temporarily washed away. “What’s the worst that could happen? No, forget I said that. Look, it worked in the lab, didn’t it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“So, it’ll work perfectly here. And if it doesn’t, we’ll get some sound out of it, and people can interpret that. This is a moving statue of Athena, for Zeus’ sake. Whatever happens, they’re going to see something they’ve never seen before.”

“That’s kind of what I’m worried about,” said Bruce.

Tony looked up and was surprised to see that the area around him had somehow suddenly become even more densely packed with people. Pepper waved at someone in the crowd, and Tony followed her gaze to a small, curvaceous woman, veiled for modesty, standing next to an imposing man in diplomatic robes. The woman raised her hand slightly in answering salute, but in every other respect appeared totally attentive to the man at her side.

“Is that her? That’s her, isn’t it?” said Tony.

Pepper smiled enigmatically. “I know a lot of people,” she said.

The crowd parted, and Iarphis squeezed through. He beckoned for Tony to follow him to a particular spot beside Steve and the statue.

On the other side of the statue stood Ampelios, the man who had initially bullied Tony for money for the building project, and the current chairman of the council. A short way off stood another group of men in ceremonial robes, one of whom was holding a rope attached to an extremely fat bull: an appropriate sacrifice for the occasion.

“Are we ready, gentlemen?” said the chairman. He frowned, seeming to suggest through his expression that a craftsman such as Steve should not be present for this point in the proceedings.

“We’re ready,” said Tony.

Steve nodded and stood firm, smiling a tight little smile at Peggy, recently arrived and making her way towards Bruce and Pepper.

The chairman coughed, and the murmur of voices from the crowd grew silent.

“Fellow Athenians,” the chairman began. “We are here today to witness the consecration of this temple to our beloved goddess, Athena Nike: goddess of this city and of victory. She watches over us and protects us, and from this day forward is memorialised in stone, as this guardian on the hillside.

“What I am told we will see today is a miracle unlike anything we have seen before. More than that: it is to be a great wonder. More wondrous than the oracle at Delphi; more sacred than the temple at Olympus, and, I am told, a device to rival those created by Hephaestus, mighty blacksmith of the gods, son of Zeus himself.

“This is to be the first of many new temples to celebrate our reborn city. Athens is immortal: Athena ensures it is so.

“Instrumental in the building of this temple is Tony Stark, first-born and only son of the formidable Howard Stark: General, benefactor, philanthropist.”

“And all-round asshole,” whispered Tony, under his breath. It didn’t escape Tony’s notice that the chairman had listed several things about Tony’s father, but nothing about Tony himself.

“Fellow Athenians, it is now my pleasure to hand you over to the creator of this temple, Tony Stark,” the chairman said.

There was a smattering of polite applause, and as the chairman stepped back, Tony stepped to the front.

“Thank you, Athenians,” said Tony, taking the man’s applause for himself. “So, we’re here today to see something really special.” He clapped his hands together. “And I’m delighted to have been part of it. Together with Bruce Banner over there – give everyone a wave, Bruce – and my good friend Steve Rogers – I hope we have created something that will serve the city for a long time to come.” Tony gestured in Steve’s direction, on the off-chance that someone in Athens still didn’t know who Steve was. He was determined that whatever else happened today, Steve’s livelihood would be secure. “The craftsmanship behind the statue and the temple that you see before you is all Steve’s work. Any problems – all my fault I can assure you, so a big round of applause for Steve, ladies and gentlemen.” A short pause ensured that the crowd started to clap once again, this time for Steve.

“You may know Steve’s early work from some of the other temples here on the Acropolis. I can assure you that this statue and temple are grander than anything you may have seen before. They are also – and I’m being modest, here – more sublimely innovative than anything you have seen before, and I hope you take the time to wander round and appreciate them fully. Together with mine and Bruce’s work, this temple will hopefully be something that you and your families will talk about and wonder at for generations to come.” Tony paused again, and the silence was dutifully filled with more applause. He really couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Tony gazed down into the crowd, and smiled his most engaging smile at Bruce and Pepper.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Athena Nike,” said Tony, and with a grand gesture, swept the cover from off of the statue.

As the cover was removed, a great puff of steam that had been building up within the statue was released. There was a collective intake of breath from the crowd, and then an awed kind of hush.

It took Tony a few moments to process what he was seeing. If he hadn’t known that his mechanism lay at the heart of it, he wouldn’t have believed it. Before him stood the most magnificent statue of a powerful woman, fully eight feet tall. Her robes were simple and flowing, but so exquisitely carved that the folds in them seemed to move where the steam touched them. The plumes on her helmet were described in precise and exact detail, raised slightly from the steam vents they contained, and making the vents completely invisible to any onlookers. Similarly, the joints on Athena’s arms were so cunningly disguised that Tony could not tell that they were there. Her shield and sword did not appear to be carved from stone at all, and Tony could not tell whether they were, in fact, metal.

Steve glanced at Tony, a slightly concerned expression on his face. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “I used the features of people I knew. For Athena.”

Tony could see it.

Her shape, no doubt, was similar to the one that Peggy had had as a younger woman. It showed itself most noticeably in her capable hands. Her upright bearing and graceful neck had so much of the essence of Pepper, and the face of Athena was somehow the face of every resilient woman that Tony had ever known. Her eyes held an echo of sadness; of unspeakable grief for wrongs done to her people, but at the same time, it was an expression of hope. It was an expression Tony had seen more than once on the face of Bruce’s mother.

“She’s magnificent,” Tony said. He became aware that the crowd around him were talking again, the sound growing louder now as they wondered at the statue.

Very quickly, a priest came forward and made the sacrifice and libations to Athena at the altar, and the portion for the goddess was offered up. The remains of the bull were taken away to be divided up elsewhere, and there was an appreciative murmur now from some people, who were looking forward to the feast that would follow. As the evidence of the sacrifice was washed away, everyone’s attention returned to the statue, which was starting to steam gently as pressure built up inside it.

Tony went to stand beside Steve.

“What do you want to do?” asked Steve.

“I think... let it look natural. No one’s expecting an oracle, so let’s surprise them,” said Tony.

“I’m surprisingly okay with that,” said Steve, quirking one corner of his mouth up in a slight smile.

“I’ll give it a few more minutes, then flick the switch,” said Tony.

The council man, standing on the other side of the statue, had now also noticed that the statue was not behaving the way a statue should, and cautiously began to edge away. Since the statue was placed directly between himself and Tony, he was unable to ask Tony about it.

As expected, none of the crowd wandered off to explore the temple when something so unusual was happening in front of it.

Tony carefully surveyed the crowd, and when Bruce next turned his gaze in Tony’s direction, flipped the switch at the back of the statue that operated the valve within. As he stepped back, there was a slight hiss, then slowly, inexorably, the left hand of the statue began to rise. The chatter from the crowd grew louder, and people started to point and jostle one another, equal parts scared and enthralled. They backed off slightly, to give this unknown phenomenon more room. As the hand of the statue came level with its shoulder, there was a slight click, and the hand lowered again. There was a collective sigh from the crowd, and then the arm bearing the sword began to rise. As it got higher, a beam of sunlight caught it, and reflected light onto several of the people standing nearest it. Again, when the arm reached a certain point, there was another click, the arm started to lower, and a deep whirring sound started to emanate from the throat of the statue.

Tony chanced another glance at Bruce, who was muttering something over and over to himself. Pepper grasped his arm, staring steadfastly at the machine. A quick glance over at Peggy revealed that she was not looking at the statue at all. Instead, she was smiling warmly at Steve, who smiled back; the only two people in Athens with not a care in the world, apparently.

“Kkkkk.... Come!” said the statue.

There was a loud intake of breath from the crowd, who simultaneously took another step back, leaving Bruce, Pepper and Peggy standing alone in front of the machine.

“Come, Athenians, here my call!” said the statue. Then, after a pause, “You shall obey me most of all.”

Tony could lip-read Bruce quite easily from here. “It’s working,” he said.

“Sparta threatens from the North! Prepare your armies, sally forth!”

“Oh no fucking way,” said Tony, to anyone that would listen. Steve turned towards him, a look of terror on his face.

“Kkkk.... Come!” the statue said again, but the tenor of the voice had changed slightly.

The mood was changing in the crowd. People were starting to panic; to argue among themselves about this terrible pronouncement from the statue. Tony, noticing that Bruce was now staring at the sky with eyes wide open, suddenly registered that something else was wrong. All around, other people were also starting to gaze upwards in awe, rather than at the alarming sight in front of them.

“No,” said the statue.

Now what, thought Tony. What? He gazed up.

A dark and swirling cloud was forming high up, directly above the statue. It seemed to suck in all of the clouds around it, the mass growing darker and larger with each passing second. As it grew, a funnel shape started to descend down out of it. The wind picked up. The air was suddenly full of dust, small stones and debris from the building site. Tony shielded his eyes. As the funnel cloud descended inexorably down towards the ground, the sky became angrier, and the wind started to roar.

“No,” said the statue again, and this time, it sounded furious.

There was a sudden thunderclap and a flash of light, and when Tony could see again there was a bright and shining figure of a woman standing immediately in front of him. As Tony’s mind began to process the sight, he and everyone around him dropped to their knees. There could be no doubt who this woman was. Athena herself.

It was almost impossible to look directly at her: it seemed obscene to be that bold. The assembled crowd all seemed to agree, and those few who were looking in Athena’s direction were doing so with extreme caution.

Tony, from his vantage point next to the statue, was probably the only one to hear her whispered words.

“Come out.”

Come out who? thought Tony.

There was a second flash of light; with no warning and not as bright. It seemed to come directly from the statue itself. Yes – another divine figure was walking out of the statue. That couldn’t be right, surely?

“Come out,” whispered Athena again. “My son.”

“Mother,” hissed the figure.

It was a boy. Nothing more than a boy. Maybe about ten years old, but Tony was no judge of these things. He was slight, with straight black hair, and his robes were green and gold. Steve grabbed Tony’s arm.

“What did you hope to gain from this, my son?” whispered Athena.

“Can you not...” began the boy.

“Loki, hush. None of your falsehoods. Tell me honestly. What did you hope to gain from this?”

“You never let me have any fun,” said Loki. “It’s a game, mother. A game.”

Even Tony averted his eyes as Athena grew angry.

“A game?” Athena hissed.

“But these fools.... you ruined everything,” said Loki.

“Loki,” chided his mother.

“They took so long, mother.” Loki appeared to be very close to stamping his tiny, imperious foot. “Even when I helped.”

“Explain?”

“I showed him,” said Loki, pointing at Tony, “where to find this oaf.” Loki pointed at Steve. Steve looked surprised.

“Then, this fool only went and got himself killed.” Loki swung his finger back round to Tony again. Tony started, and his hand went to the circular scar on his chest.

“Oh, Loki, my meddlesome child,” Athena sighed.

“And still they didn’t play the game properly. And I did help, mother, I did. I helped that one,” Loki pointed at Bruce, “to make the oracles. But I didn’t tell him your secrets, mother. I swear.”

“That’s enough, child,” said Athena. “Enough.”

Loki frowned and started to pout a little at this.

“What did you hope to gain from this?” Athena asked again.

“Nothing,” said Loki, stubbornly.

“Loki.”

The boy mumbled incoherently.

“I beg your pardon?” said Athena.

“Alright,” said Loki, and this time he did stamp his foot. “I wanted to take over Athens. There. I said it. Are you happy now?” he shouted.

Athena looked about as surprised as a god could be. “You wanted?”

“To take over Athens. This thing,” Loki waved at the statue, “was supposed to give MY oracles. Then these people would do what I told them to.”

Athena’s expression softened. “Silly boy,” she said, and stroked his hair. “Did you honestly think that a statue of me would tell the Athenians to do your bidding? A statue dedicated to me, consecrated to me, at my temple?” She reached out and grasped Loki’s hand firmly. “You have much to learn.”

Loki’s expression was like thunder. “You never let me have any fun,” he said again.

“One day, all these things will become clear to you. It is true you were born to rule, but that time is not yet.” Athena turned, and glanced at Steve, Tony and Bruce. “Step forward,” she said.

They complied.

“I am flattered with the honour you have bestowed upon me,” said Athena. She reached out and touched her statue. “No one could have been more attentive in following the directions of my oracle at Dodona. Before I take this wayward child back to Olympus, there is a debt I must repay,” said Athena. She turned her full attention on Steve, and her light reflected off of his skin and his white robe.

“Many years ago, you rescued this boy, and I took something precious from you in return. Permit me now to return it to you.”

Steve momentarily looked up, then lowered his gaze again. “Sacred Athena?” he asked. “May I call you Athena?” he said.

“Some call me Athena, others call me Frigga, or Minerva. I have as many names as aspects, and you may address me using any of them, provided it is with the appropriate respect.” When Steve glanced quickly up again, he could see that she was smiling.

“What did you take from me?” said Steve.

“Time, Steve Rogers. I took time from you. What some would consider a lifetime.” She glanced briefly in Peggy’s direction.

“Well, with respect,” said Steve, “could you, would it be possible for you to give that time to someone else? To Peggy? If it’s possible.”

Athena smiled. “Ah, I see,” she said. “It is done.”

“Thank you,” said Steve.

“And now, we must return to Olympus. Some of us have been absent for far too long.”

“Wait!” said Tony, and Athena raised her eyebrows.

“I mean, please wait, oh... Athena,” said Tony.

“I am listening,” said Athena.

“With respect, what about the oracle? The one we’ve just received?” said Tony.

Athena looked unconcerned. “We will let this play out as it may. This is my oracle, after all,” she said. And with that, there was another flash of light, and both Athena and Loki vanished.

Tony shook himself, suddenly remembered the statue, and flicked the release valve on the back, which both released any remaining pressure and damped down the firebox. The statue seemed to sag.

Around them, the crowd also now seemed to snap out of a trance. People were standing up again, brushing the dirt off of their knees, and starting to discuss the spectacle they had just witnessed. Tony was certain that there’d be a thousand different accounts of this before the day was out, and doubly certain that no one would forget this day in a hurry.

The crowds lingered for a while. Few dared approach the statue, but most took the opportunity to explore the temple, to see if there were any other wonders in there. Tony left Iarphis to tend the statue, and he and Steve joined Bruce, Pepper and Peggy, and made their way down off of the Acropolis towards the feast.

“I’m actually speechless,” said Tony.

“Not for long, clearly,” said Bruce, raising his eyebrows. “The statue worked,” he said. “And it’s magnificent, Steve.”

“Thanks,” said Steve. He slung an arm around Peggy’s shoulders.

“Now?” said Peggy. “It’s as good a time as any.”

“Sure,” said Steve. “So, are you guys busy tomorrow?”

“Not especially,” said Tony, who never knew what he was supposed to be doing and had people to remind him anyway.

“Nothing we can’t reschedule,” said Pepper. “Why?”

“Our wedding. We thought we’d have it tomorrow,” said Steve.

Peggy moved in closer to Steve, and placed her head on his shoulder. “It’s at the Temple of Aphrodite at the Kerameikos, mid-afternoon,” she said.

“We, er, didn’t want to waste any more time,” said Steve.

“Tomorrow?” said Tony. “Sure, why not.”

“He means we’ll be there,” said Bruce.

“And that we’d be delighted. And congratulations again,” said Pepper. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

Peggy’s smile was like the sun. “I think we’ve got everything we need,” she said. Pepper beamed back.

They very quickly arrived at their destination, and seated themselves at one end of a long table.

“Athena,” said Bruce, obviously still replaying the day’s events in his mind. “I can’t believe it.”

“It’s gonna take some time,” said Tony.

“But, Steve,” said Pepper solicitously, “what the goddess said about time – giving the time you lost to Peggy. What do you think she means? I mean, how does that work? I’m sorry, Peggy. I’m just trying to understand.”

“I don’t know,” said Peggy, patting Pepper’s hand. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Some servants came over bringing bread, cheese and wine. They took generous portions of all three.

Bruce frowned. “I know I should be worrying about the oracle. War with Sparta?” he said. “But quite frankly, I’ve had about as many surprises as I can take today.”

Tony squeezed his knee under the table.

***

The sunlight reflected off the walls and roadway was painfully bright as Bruce and Tony made their way towards the Kerameikos the following day. Tony took the opportunity to re-start a conversation that he’d been having with Bruce for many years.

“So, you still don’t know who she is?” he said.

“Nope, and I don’t need to know,” said Bruce.

“But you work with Pepper. You must know,” said Tony.

“You work with her too, Tony,” said Bruce.

“Well, yeah. But still,” said Tony. “Pepper’s been seeing this friend of hers for longer than I’ve known you, and you still don’t know who it is. Every time I think I’m going to catch a glimpse, she’s gone. It’s like she’s a spy or something.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We’re not supposed to know. Pepper doesn’t want us to know. And we don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, but.”

“And if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you,” said Bruce. “For both their sakes.”

Tony grinned. “Still, though,” he said. “The situation as it is now is... well, it’s perfect.”

Bruce barked out a laugh.

“No, hear me out. We’ve actually got a better marriage than just about everyone I know. And if I hadn’t married her...”

“Her father would have forced her to marry someone else.”

“Yes,” said Tony. “So this is perfect. For both of us. For all of us. She gets to be with someone she’s loved for more years than either of us care to count, I don’t get forced into doing things I don’t want to do, and now,” he shrugged and mumbled something.

“Excuse me?” said Bruce.

“This is pretty cool, too,” said Tony, gesturing between them.

“You’re welcome,” said Bruce, smiling. He stared into the middle-distance, and Tony sighed.

“Want to work on making it even more perfect?” said Bruce.

Tony shrugged, but his smile was full of mischief. “That depends. Am I going to pay for that ‘getting forced into stuff’ comment?”

The temple of Aphrodite Ourania in the Kerameikos district was one of the smaller, older temples, and it looked small against the backdrop of the new work on the Acropolis. For Peggy and Steve’s purposes, it was perfect. Its clean columns and wooden statue hearkened back to a simpler time. Someone had decked the temple with garlands, which brought the scent of fresh air into the city.

Gradually, a small crowd assembled, and Bruce recognised assorted stonemasons and administrative personnel from the Acropolis. Steve appeared among the throng, and from another direction, Peggy, on the arm of someone who looked a little like her.

“Who’s that?” Tony asked the man standing next to him.

“Her sister’s son,” the man said.

“Looks kinda grouchy.”

“Hush, Tony,” said Bruce.

Simple offerings of fruit, flowers and cake were made at the altar, and the happy couple were blessed with holy water. The ceremony was brief, and sweet, and those attending cheered in celebration as it finished. As the crowds dispersed off to Peggy’s house for their second feast in two days, Tony slipped away. He stuck to back alleyways and side-roads, and made his way back up to the now-deserted statue of Athena Nike on the Acropolis. Around him, the sound of stone-masons working filled the air, but Tony was left to his own devices as he approached the statue.

Today, it was cold and still, unattended and surrounded by its screen. Tony ducked in behind the screen and laid a hand on its arm. As was his habit, he stroked the arm of the statue.

“I know you can’t hear me,” he said, “but thanks. For this, for now, for the oracle at Dodona. If this was the fate you had in mind for me, then thanks. This natural state... I think I can live with that.”

Tony smiled up at the statue, and it may have just been the way that the late afternoon light caught the marble, slanting sideways across Athena’s face, but he could have sworn that maybe, just maybe, she winked at him.

***THE END***

**Author's Note:**

> IARPHIS: There is no J or V in ancient Greek.  
>   
> 
> 
> Historical context:
> 
> This fic begins in the year 458 BC. That is, it’s set squarely in the period of relative peace between the end of the Persian Wars and the start of the Peloponnesian War. There are several reasons for choosing this period. Firstly, I wanted Steve to have slept through a war (for no reason other than the parallels that could be drawn), and I wanted the main male characters not to be required to be part of an army. Secondly, I wanted Steve to be a sculptor involved in a major restoration project at Athens, and for this, the timing is perfect (although I have made the construction of the temple of Athena Nike a few years earlier than it actually happened). Thirdly, the back story of Howard Stark (and the family Stark generally) fits better within the context of the first change from oligarchic to democratic forms of government. Finally, I am personally more interested in the Archaic Period than subsequent periods of Ancient Greek history (you may have gathered). What this also means, though, is that it is set before the birth of many prominent figures that it would be tempting to write into a Greek AU. Socrates, for example, is (as far as we know) only ten years old in 458, and Aristophanes won’t be born for another 12 years. However, ‘natural philosophy’, the exploration of the physical world before the term ‘science’ is coined, is starting to take off in a big way. It’s really fun to play with that.   
>   
> 
> 
> A few sources for very early Greek natural philosophy, should you be interested:
> 
> Thales (c. 620 - c. 546 BC). The founder of natural philosophy; predicted a solar eclipse: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thales
> 
> Anaximander (c.611 – c.546 BC). Worked on fundamental principles of the universe: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anaximander
> 
> Anaximenes (c.585 – 528 BC). Worked on some of the principles underlying chemistry and physics: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anaximenes_of_Miletus
> 
> For an example of the high degree of precision possible in ancient Greek mechanical engineering, Google ‘Antikythera Mechanism’.   
>   
> 
> 
> Ancient Greek Vases:
> 
> There are many examples of erotic art on ancient Greek pottery. For the example in this fic, I was thinking of something like this: http://www.utexas.edu/courses/gciv/images/erotic.jpg  
>   
> 
> 
> Some very brief notes on ancient Greek sexuality:
> 
> Ancient Greek concepts of sexuality are extremely different from modern-day concepts. In brief, in the ancient Greek world, they were no such distinctions as ‘gay’ or ‘straight’. Instead, men (and not women) had age-appropriate sexual behaviour. It was normal practise for a man to take a much younger man as a lover. The older man was always the active (and/or penetrative) partner; the younger man always passive, though what this might actually entail varied. It was considered masculine to be the active partner. To be the passive or submissive partner was acceptable, but only until a man developed body hair, which appears to have occurred later in life in the ancient world. To be passive past a certain age was deemed deeply shameful. However, being the passive partner was a useful ways to obtain patronage and to do what we now term ‘networking’. Same-sex relationships were supposed to stop when a man was wealthy or old enough to marry. Almost nothing is known of same-sex female relationships.
> 
> While I wanted to make this story in keeping with fan fiction tropes generally, I have also tried not to push the ancient boundaries too much. I decided that the culture of the time would not allow my characters to fully – or publicly – act on any impulses that they may have had. Public figures such as Tony and Bruce are known to have had sexual relationships with men of a similar age, but where these are recorded, it is because they are being ridiculed and lampooned in the theatre, or their reputations are being sullied in law courts. This shame ruined families and businesses.
> 
> If you would like to learn more about this subject, an overview is available in The Oxford Companion To Classical Civilization (eds. Simon Hornblower and Antony Spawforth, 2004), pp.347, 351-354 (which you may be able to see for free using the ‘Look Inside’ feature on Amazon). For a fuller, scholarly discussion, see Kenneth Dover, Greek Homosexuality (first published in 1978 and reprinted several times since).
> 
> Please don’t ask me to write a sequel to this, because I’d have to write the Hulk versus the Spartans.


End file.
